


The Road Taken

by Michelle



Series: Untamed [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slash, Were-Creatures, Werewolf Reveal, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-01
Updated: 2008-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 73,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29108268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle/pseuds/Michelle
Summary: His time in Gondor has come to an end and Aragorn is to meet up with Legolas. He never arrives, though, and the elf goes in search for him, fearing some evil has befallen the man.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Series: Untamed [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135745
Kudos: 2





	1. Into the Sea of Waking Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Title: The Road Taken  
> Author: Michelle  
> Email: michelle [at] waking-vision.com  
> Summary: His time in Gondor has come to an end and Aragorn is to meet up with Legolas. He never arrives, though, and the elf goes in search for him, fearing some evil has befallen the man.   
> Series: Untamed. This is set after "Two Souls, Entwined" and “Horse and Rider”. Both stories are referenced, so it will make more sense if you have read them.  
> Timeline: TA, 2980  
> Pairing: A/L  
> Genre: FPS, angst, romance, supernatural  
> Warning: non-con in a later chapter  
> Rating: NC17  
> Disclaimer: All I do is wish and dream and spin outrageous tales.  
> Author's Note: I've always wanted to write a vampire story with Aragorn and Legolas as protagonists, but someone that plan never worked. This is the story that was born instead...

_There are yet two things in my destiny, -_

_A world to roam through, and a home with thee._

(Lord Byron)

~*~

# 1\. Into the Sea of Waking Dreams

Legolas I am called. That means Greenleaf in the Common Tongue, because I was born under the strong boughs of Greenwood’s trees and have taken solace in their soothing presence ever since. I am the son of a king, but the station of a prince means little to an immortal people. For we are elves, the Firstborn as men call us. We treasure everything that lives and blooms. We are the light in a darkening world, praising Ilúvatar for the gifts he has bestowed upon us and the land he has entrusted us with for safekeeping.

Some of us spend their countless years as if in a dream. Regardless of the years or the seasons they go on and on, walking in this world without truly being a part of it. Not so I. What use is my existence if I do not wish to make a difference, if I do not have a goal? I have always wanted to distinguish myself in the great scheme of things. I wanted my song to be heard between the great melody of Ilúvatar himself. Seeing Greenwood, my beautiful homeland, encroached by darkness and infested by evil creatures I honed my skills as a warrior. I always thought my fate would be to become a great warrior, ridding our forest of the enemy. I believed my people would make songs about my ability with the bow. I was wrong: My fate was to be loved by a man.

Aragorn is his name, and he is of royal blood himself. He wears no crown and rules no country, but wanders Middle Earth to learn and see everything this wide land has to offer. He is a man of great strength, admirable skill in battle and the authority of a born leader. For me however, he is a loving man, a gentle soul and a steadfast friend. In short, he is the man I love with all my heart, my soul and my body.

We met when he was still Estel – the name the elves gave to him when he grew up in Rivendell – and to this day that is what I call him. We share a bond since then, a connection so deep I suspect not even death could sever it fully. However, our fathers urged us not to bond formally. Elrond wants Estel to take a wife and sire heirs or else his bloodline will vanish with him. And my father fears that binding myself to a mortal will only cause me grief and heartache. So they bid us to wait, but whether formally acknowledged or not, our bond is very real and even our fathers cannot rule our hearts. They can do nothing but wait and let the years pass by in the hope that the problem will pass on its own. But after more than thirty years in which distance and silence could not part us, I am certain that nothing will.

I had not seen Estel in the past eleven years, because he was serving in Gondor as a captain. We had promised ourselves to try and meet each year in June, in the week of summer solstice, in our secret place near the Misty Mountains. But Gondor was a long way from here, and Estel was just a soldier. The last time I had heard from him had been nine years prior, when Gandalf had come to Mirkwood bearing a present for me. It was a horse, her long legs and easy gait showing her youth, her eyes big and intelligent and her welcoming whinny eager and friendly. Gandalf told me that Estel had left Rohan for Gondor and that the mare was the only thing he took when Thengel asked what he desired as thanks for his service. Her name was Éadgifu, blessed gift, and she was Estel’s present to me to commemorate our twentieth anniversary. Eadie, as I came to call her, was just a yearling when she arrived in Mirkwood and I trained her myself. She was as smart as any elven horse and fiercely loyal. She became my constant companion and of course she accompanied me on this special journey to the Misty Mountains. I was curious to see whether she would remember Estel.

I was in our cave, waiting for Estel, and this once I knew the wait would not be in vain. He had sent word ahead that his time in Gondor had come to an end and that he would return home for the time being. He had promised to meet me here, and together we would go on to Rivendell, for I was certain he wanted to see his family. I planned to stay in Rivendell as well and was looking forward to sleeping late and finding my limbs entangled with Estel’s. It had been so long since we had shared something as simple as a bed and I longed for his solid warmth next to me in the dark of night. I was looking forward to long talks deep into the night about things he had seen and done. I wanted to explore all the small changes that time had left on him and see in what regard he had stayed the same.

The cave was exactly as I remembered it, nobody had been here since I had left it last. The spot was secluded and the cave itself not large enough to host a larger group of people. The place gave me comfort and peace, because everything in it reminded me of the man I loved and the previous times we had spent a few days here. This time though, there would be no goodbye. He would come home and he would stay – and I would be by his side.

The past twenty years had been hard for both of us. I could count the number of times he had managed to make the journey to the cave on one hand. Our first reunion had been the most emotional one. Estel had grown up during his time in Rohan, had seen war and death and believed that the love of his elf was a dream from another life. The fear that I would turn from him was easily visible in his eyes. The week we spent here was one of healing, and after that first time he never again doubted my commitment and I did the same. However long his silences, however long his short letters took to reach me, I never doubted that he would return to me.

And now was the moment, finally, after so many years of waiting. I wondered how he might have changed during that time, how many new lines of care I would find in his handsome face. But in the end it would not matter, because his heart always stayed the same and I would recognize its beat everywhere. We would connect on a level that went much deeper than sight or sound or touch. It was my soul that reached out to his and it was his soul that answered. Always.

I made the cave my home and took Eadie for short rides in the morning. I never ventured far for fear I would miss Estel’s arrival, but after a full week of fruitless wait I became restless. He should have been here by now and I worried about what may have waylaid him. The easiest possibility – that Ecthelion had not let him go or that one last mission had pushed back his return, did sound less plausible each time I repeated it to myself. The way from Minas Tirith up north was long and dangerous. What if he had crossed path with orcs? Had been robbed by bandits? What if he lay injured and alone on some forgotten road in Rohan while I sat here and did nothing? Each and every possibility sounded less inviting and made me shudder.

And then one night, it was the eighth after my arrival at the cave, I got my answer. I sat at the mouth of the cave for a long time gazing at the stars and the half moon shining down at me. The sky was cloudless and the moon’s light dipped the land around me in a gentle light. I imagined how Estel would sit by a campfire looking at the same stars as I. I felt so near him in that moment that I envisioned him next to me, his arm barely touching mine while he smoked his pipe. He smiled at me, not taking the pipe out of his mouth, and his eyes sparkled in the moonlight. The crowsfeet around his eyes had deepened since the last time I had seen him and they crinkled charmingly when he smiled wistfully at me. I felt drawn into his gaze, falling into the endless depths of his grey eyes that were unnaturally bright from either the campfire or the moonlight. He became serious after a while, the smile disappearing as if it never been, and his eyes looked past me to the south, his forehead furrowed in thought.

“Come for me,” he said and when his hand seized mine in a death grip the scenery changed abprubtly.

There was a room, dark and damp and poorly lit. I was standing in the open door, but felt unable to step inside. Somewhere behind me a candle was burning and the low light did nothing to conceal the shabbiness of the room. There was a figure at the far end, lying on its side with its back to me. And I knew it in my heart then, without having to see the man’s face, that is was Estel lying on the ground, shivering almost imperceptively in the cold. I called out to him, noticing that my voice worked even if my legs did not, but Estel did not move or react to my call. He seemed oblivious while I tried to will me legs to carry me to him and I balled my fists in frustration when I was unsuccessful. I shouted with desperation, hoping he would hear me and be comforted, but nothing happened. The image did not change and I was forced to be a spectator only, breathing in the stale air of sweat and blood and underlying that – faintly only – Estel’s own scent.

I heard his voice then. It did not come from the figure in the room, but sounded within my head. “Lassë,” it called, the word itself a caress, because his disembodied voice seemed unaffected by the motionless figure on the ground. “Lassë,” it sounded again and then the vision vanished and I was back in the cave, startled awake by my own dream.

I sat there for countless minutes, listening to the mad beat of my heart. Even with my eyes open, the strange dream lingered and Estel’s voice beckoning me still sounded in my ears. This had not been a mere dream, it had felt much too real for that. It had either been a prophecy of what was to come – or it had shown me what had already come to pass.

Elves bond for life and when they do their minds connect and become one as the centuries pass by. I had seen in it my parents. Had seen how my father would continue a sentence my mother had started and how they could hold whole conversations simply by looking at each other. As a small child I had hated it, because it meant I was never the wiser, could never play off one against the other. But later I began to see that it was only proof of the love they shared and began to long for a bond that ran that deep. When I met Estel and accepted that my fate would be tied to his, it was my only regret that we could not share ourselves on this level and that I would never be able to hear his voice in my mind.

In fact, our first years together in Rivendell had strengthened my belief in this regard. Never did I hear his thoughts – though I tried. Never did I find myself in his dreams. Never was there any indication that his elvish blood was strong enough to develop a connection like this. It was only after he had left for Rohan that I began having dreams. The first time I dreamed he was riding on a proud stallion at the head of a column of soldiers. The land was plain and the soldiers dusty from the long road. But they held their heads proudly, and Estel sat on his horse with his shoulders squared and the glint of victory in his eyes. They were a sight to behold, those soldiers, and after I woke this image sustained me for a long time to come.

Other dreams would follow. I saw Estel in a Gondorian uniform, standing guard at the Citadel. I saw him in his quarters, looking to the north and singing an elvish lullaby with obvious longing in his voice. I saw him stretched out naked on a bed, pleasuring himself with my name on his lips.

But I never knew how powerful this connection might be and whether it felt the same to Estel, because during our short meetings the topic had never come up. I welcomed them however, because they gave me a glimpse into Estel’s life at a time when I could not be by his side.

And so it was that I knew that this could not have been a mere dream. “Come for me,” he had said, but the vision had left me with no further instructions. Were was he? I had seen nothing beyond the dark room. Estel could be in the next human settlement, or he could still be in Gondor. My heart felt heavy considering the thought.

I let my thoughts reach out, let my love become tangible and travel the miles between us. I called for him silently, to let me know that he still lived, but I met only with silence. “Estel,” I begged, my eyes closed in concentration, “help me find you.” But there was nothing, only a dark void stretching out before me.

I needed to leave, needed to find Estel before sorrow could befall him, but it was still dark outside and it was too dangerous for Eadie to walk the rocky surfaces of the Misty Mountains in the middle of the night. So I tried to busy myself with packing up my belongings, so I might be ready to leave at the first dawning of the new day. I continued to call for Estel, with no success. My spirits started to dwindle, but then I remembered the first lesson Estel had tought me: To never lose hope, and not to stop fighting for as long as the battle was not lost. And this battle was not lost by a long shot, I vowed.

When the sky started to lighten and I deemed the road safe enough for Eadie, I stepped out of the cave, my bags and weapons about me and descended to the plain below. Eadie had spent the night there, for the grass was green and soft in these parts and a stream was running nearby. She greeted me with a whinny and trotted in my direction, bowing her head in the hopes of getting her ears stroked. I could not forgo our little morning ritual even if I was desperate to be off, but Eadie seemed to notice my somber mood and broke our little session of cuddling, waiting to be saddled and bridled instead. We left the plains ere the sun had fully risen.

 _Do not tarry,_ a little voice in my mind said and panic started to well up inside me. It took effort to calm my racing heart, but I could not let my fear take me. I needed to be strong now, Estel’s life might rely on it.

I looked to the south, squinting my eyes as if I could see him in the distance, and spurred Eadie on.

“I am coming for you, my love,” I vowed.

**Notes:**

  * Chapter title comes from the Sarah McLachlan song “Possession”.





	2. A Thousand Miles for You

#  **2\. A Thousand Miles For You**

A new day was dawning while I rode. To my right, anor’s rays were peaking out behind the mountaintops as if afraid what this morning might bring. Tendrils of light shot heavenwards, dipping my surroundings in the surreal light of early morning. Hesitantly the sky became lighter and as anor seemed to gain courage and strength all kinds of colour broke out over the horizon. Shades of blue, purple and flaming red chased each other and the dew on the ground reflected this chaos of colour and magnified it a hundredfold. And when anor finally came up behind the mountains, shining a warm but still shy light upon my face, my heart was filled with hope and resolve. Life was a cycle just like the one of night and day. There needed to be dark times for us to appreciate happiness. And even if I felt like darkness was encroaching me, there would be light at the end. I was certain of it.

Without the darkness of a seemingly endless night encroaching me I felt able to think of happier times, times when no worries had plagued my mind. It had only been during our first year together, when Estel had not yet known of his true identity, that we had been able to live our life as if we were the only two people in the world. I liked to think back to those times, when Estel’s face had held the glow of one experiencing love for the very first time. We had spent whole days in his bed; kissing, touching, looking into each other’s eyes, being silent together. The passage of time had held no meaning for us and I could have happily spent the rest of my days thus.

I smiled at the memory of his face, youthful, innocent and so very eager, and then thought of him years later: an adult, a man in his own right and his hands skilled while they caressed my cheek. I loved both images, loved the inexperienced youth Estel had been and the resourceful lover he had become and longed desperately to be reunited with him.

My thoughts gave me courage and I spurred Eadie into an easy canter. She maintained her steady pace for most of the morning, but at some point I had stop for a break. I could go on without rest or sleep for days if the need called for it. However, I had to take my mare into a account. I needed her in good shape if I hoped to find Estel in a timely fashion.

I discovered a small lake a little off the road and dismounted. I loosened the saddle and then gave the horse a little pat, which was her cue to wander off for a while. She weaved her way across the lake’s edge, nibbling at leaves and grass blades and eventually waded into the shallow water to drink her fill.

I sat down and watched Eadie as she splashed water around. The view made me smile and I realized that my mind was much clearer now than it had been the night before. I tried to reach Estel with my thoughts again, but just as the night before, I met only with foreboding silence. There was nothing but a dark void when I let my thoughts travel and drift, but after a while a feeling of such urgency overcame me that I feared my vision from last night did indeed lay in the past and not in the future. Whatever evil had befallen Estel, it had already happened. I could only hope to find him before it was too late.

“Estel, where are you?” I asked into the calm of the forest. “What happened to you?” A bird called off in the distance, but other than that no answer was forthcoming.

This was a vast land, and finding Estel would need more luck than skill. I could imagine which road he had likely been taking, but that still left the fact of when exactly on his journey he had met with trouble. I fervently hoped he was somewhere near instead of still being in Rohan or even Gondor. I needed to trust the Valar not to be this cruel to me. And I had to trust to my luck. I had seen Estel kill whole bands of orcs with nothing more but luck and it was my hope that this one character trait had rubbed off on me.

Half an hour later I whistled for Eadie and we resumed our southward trail. The road seemed deserted, for I had met with no one for the whole day. I began to despair that I had maybe followed an abandoned road when I came upon a single hut. It appeared out of nowhere, just standing before me after Eadie had followed a bend in the path.

It looked shabby and the fact that it did not seem to have any straight lines only added to that look. The whole thing was made of wood and I feared the slightest wind might blow it asunder. There were a few rows of potatoes to the side and a group of geese walked between the plants, obviously in search for food. A lone goat was tethered to a stick rammed into the earth, its bleet announcing my arrival.

As if on cue an old woman appeared on the threshhold, a bucket in her hand. She was small and her back was bent – she was just as weathered by time as her house. She muttered to herself, or maybe to the goat, and when she noticed me she went absolutely still for a moment. Her mouth was agape and the bucket fell to the ground with a loud clattering noise, spilling water everywhere.

That seemed to bring her back to the present. I hurriedly dismounted Eadie and approached the woman cautiously, trying to ease her obvious shock at seeing me.

“Greetings,” I called in the most soothing voice I could muster, holding out my hands in front of me to show that I did not come to cause trouble. In response, her lips moved and her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. But no sound came and finally I noticed the direction of her stare: My ears.

Estel would have chided me for being so thoughtless. I had not dressed with the thought in mind that I might come upon humans. Initially, I had just wanted to meet up with Estel and be on the road. Now, though, my priorities had changed, but my appearance had not. I had come here unconcealed, as the elf that I was. I wore plain travelling clothes in the green shades of my home, but still they looked more costly than anything this poor woman might ever have owned. To have it out of my eyes my hair was held in a single braid that ran down my back and kept me ears in plain view. I was painfully aware of the fact that the handles of my knives would be visible to her. And my bow was tethered to the saddle, probably looking very menacing. I swallowed hard and cursed myself silently.

“You... you...,” the woman finally managed to stutter, and then collapsed on a bench standing in front of the house without ever finishing her sentence.

“I apologize for surprising you like this,” I hurried to say. “Yes, I am an elf.” I felt I should get that little detail out in the open before the poor woman died of fright.

She appraised me a little more while she seemed to collect herself. Then she huffed and straightened her shoulders. “To startle me like that. Will bring an old woman right under the ground, it will!” she scolded.

“I am very sorry,” I apologized and my words were heartfelt. “That was not my intention. My name is Legolas.” I made a deep bow, one that was usually reserved for royalty, and looked at my toes for ten seconds before coming up again only to find her puzzled stare pointed at me.

“Legolas, Legolas,” she muttered, trying the name repeatedly on her tongue. “Seems familiar somehow. But I’ll be damned if I knew why.” She tapped her crooked finger against her chin in thought. “You’ve ever been in these parts before?”

Now I was just as puzzled and my confusion must have shown on my face, for she decided to answer her own question. “Of course not. I would remember if you had. An elf!”

She shook her head as if she meant to lose those thoughts, but the thoughtful frown on her wrinkled face refused to disappear entirely. “Well, well. What brings you here, then?”

“I am searching for a man,” I started my plea, happy to finally be able to voice my request.

“Aren’t we all,” she guffawed and I could see easily that not many teeth were left in her mouth.

“I am searching for a man,” I began again when her laughter started to die down. “About as tall as I, dark hair down to his shoulders. Probably...” But I was interrupted yet again.

“No need to go on. Last one to come through here was Thrymma, back when the rivers were thawing. No one’s been here since then.”

She saw the disappointment on my face. “You’re off the main road in any case,” she chided. “Go west and you will meet with a larger road. Maybe you’ll have more luck there.” She put her hands on her hips in the eternal gesture of _I am much wiser than you are_. I decided not to argue with her.

“I thank you for the advice,” I beamed instead. Another thought occured to me: “Do you by any chance own a coat you might sell?”

She shot me a dubious look and then looked up at the sun. I could easily follow her train of thought and wished to disperse it.

“You see, we elves are used to much warmer climates. I had not counted on the weather to be so chill,” I lied openly. Estel had told me time and again that humans knew next to nothing about elves. Most were even convinced we did not exist at all. To that woman I was a being straight out of a fairy-tale, so it was alright for me to be a little strange – and cold in June.

She sniffed the air at my words, squinting her eyes up at the sun. “Seems a fine weather to me.” Her eyes travelled the length of my body again. “But you look as thin as a leaf in the wind,” and with that she vanished into the dark of the house while I chuckled at her choice of words.

I heard her move within the house and the sounds of trunks being opened. After a while she came back with an old dusty coat over her arm.

“There.” She handed me the coat with a sentimental look on her face. “A soldier once forgot it here. I fear it may be a little moth-ridden, but I hope it’ll do.”

I shook out the coat and its scent tickled my nose. It obviously had been lying in a trunk for many years, because it smelled old and stale and dusty. But it also smelled of horse, of leather, of man. I looked closer, letting my fingers trail over the rough material, torn or stitched in places. Estel had worn a coat just like that many years in the past. I shook my head, thinking I was starting to see things were in fact there was nothing to be seen.

“I thank you, madam,” I said and she gave me an indulgent smile. I fished a few coins out of my pack and handed them to her. It probably was more money than she had ever seen in her life.

She shook her head decisively. “Keep it. I have no use for that coat anyway.”

“Once again, I thank you.” I was surprised that she would not accept the money. Looking at the skewed house once more I was certain she would have many uses for my coins.

“I bid you farewell then.” I bowed again, silently thinking that my father would be quite surprised to see me so courtly.

“Good luck with your search.” She bent down, her bones cracking, to pick up the bucket and walk past me. My audience was obviously over.

I mounted Eadie and turned her west to search for the road the woman had mentioned.

~*~

It took me another two days until I came upon something else besides settlements that consisted of nothing more than two drafty houses and a warped barn. I had easily found the road the woman had mentioned and could see the imprint of carts and feet upon it. From time to time I passed traders or peasants and always I asked them wether they had seen a lone ranger. But none of them could help me.

After following the road on a southward trail for two days I came upon a town that seemed to be something of a traders’ post. It was of considerable size and the streets were buzzing with people tending to their business. I shrugged deeper into my new coat, marvelling at its comfortable fit even if it was a bit too large, and followed what I perceived to be the main road. I could see a variety of shops and street vendors. Old women stood leaning against the buildings selling what their garden provided. I imagined they would see quite a bit, standing there all day.

I dismounted Eadie and led her over to one of the women, interrupting her animated chatter with a slightly younger neighbour. A jar of strawberries was in front of her, obviously everything she had to sell today. She looked up when she noticed my approach.

I pointed at the jar of fruit. “Are they fresh?”

“Of course they are,” she answered, affront in her voice. “Here, try one.” She held the jar out to me and I fished out one small strawberry. It truly tasted good and I nodded.

“I would like to take all of them.” Then I realized I had nothing where to put the strawberries. “Could I have the jar as well?”

“That will cost you extra.”

I counted off a few coins and while we exchanged goods and money, I asked what I had come here for to begin with. “You have not seen a ranger come through here? My height, dark hair...” I trailed off, hoping to see recognition dawn on her face. She only shook her head and then asked her neighbour, who answered in the negative as well. My hopes fell.

“Could you point me to the local inn then?”

That was a question she could easily answer. “Just follow this road. It will lead to a market place and on its right side you’ll see _The Hollow_. Quality establishment, or so the innkeeper says.” She wiggled her brows as if she did not agree with that last statement.

“Thank you.” I nodded and led Eadie further down the street.

The longer I walked, the more I felt darkness press in on me. It was the same sense of foreboding I had felt the night when Estel had called for me. The feeling seemed to choke me and I gripped Eadie’s reins tighter, hurrying my steps until the road widened, opening into a market square.

I let my gaze travel left and right until I spotted the inn. The name fit, for it sat a little further back, as if huddling into the shadows. It was quite a bit lower than the neighbouring buildings and I imagined the interior must be very narrow. Still, I was certain that Estel would have come this way. If so, it was likely that he had stopped at the inn for a pint of ale and a good night’s rest in a proper bed.

I drew the hood of the coat deeper into my face and entered _The Hollow_. At once I was assailed by all the smells and sounds I had come to associate with these places. The air was stale and smoky and I desperately wished to be able to simply stop breathing. The serving room was more spacious than I had anticipated from the outside, but still it was fully packed, making me feel a bit claustrophobic. At least, no one paid me any attention, so I seated myself in a quiet and dark corner and ordered a pint of spiced wine from the girl serving the tables. I let my gaze wander over the men chattering. Some were playing cards, some were discussing the absence of rain and what it might mean for their crops, and others were sitting silently, looking into their pints and pondering their fate. The men’s chatter was of no interest to me, none of them seemed to discuss a ranger coming through here. They were solely occupied with their own lives, a fault I had often seen in the race of men.

The girl came back, carrying a tankard full to the brim. She could hardly have been older than eleven, her cheeks round and rosy and curly blond locks framing her young features. She held the heavy tankard with both hands, concentrating hard on navigating the narrow grounds while not spilling a drop. She put the drink in front of me and I handed her a few coins, which she bit on and then slipped into the folds of her dress. For a moment the girl tried to peer into my face, probably curious what kind of man would disguise his features so – especially in summer. But when she could not see much in the dim light of the room she shrugged and went to leave.

My hand shot up and caught her wrist, preventing her from leaving just yet. She was about to voice a protest, maybe scream for her parents, but I pressed another coin in her palm and that quietened her effectively.

“What do you want?” she asked, and her voice held a hard edge no eleven-year old should have. She straightened her shoulders, glaring at me, but did not turn away.

“Information. Do you work here every day?”

A nod was my only answer. “I am searching for a man in ranger garb. He is tall, dark hair, shoulder-length. He would be armed, maybe he had a horse. He would have come through here four or five days ago.”

I saw something flash in her eyes and my heart jumped. “You know of whom I speak,” I prodded and wondered if she could hear my heart hammer in my chest.

“And what if I knew?” she pushed her chin forward defiantly. “What do you want from that man?”

  
“He is my friend, he should have met me days ago. I fear he met with trouble on the road.”

Her eyes rested on me and I noticed how old and jaded they looked in her young face. She weighed me, trying to decide whether I was trustful. And then she nodded to herself, obviously coming to a decision.

“You should talk to my father. He owns the inn. He’s over at the bar.” With that, she freed herself of my grip and vanished into the crowd.

For a moment I was shocked into inaction, trying to come to terms with the fact that I might have found Estel. Possibility upon possibility ran through my mind, while I tried to imagine what might have happened to him. Dread settled in my stomach as I envisioned what I might find. Would he be injured? Sick? My mind came back to the dream and the dark room I had seen him in. It was time to find out what had actually happened to him.

All these thoughts raced through my mind in mere moments and then, suddenly, I jumped up from the table and all but flew over to the bar. Once there I caught the attention of the burly man behind it with another coin and leaned over the wood of the bar as to not shout over the din.

“I was told you know of the whereabouts of a ranger who came through here a few days ago.”

“Wants to know who?” The inkeeper asked in suspicion, not at all happy that I concealed my features.

“A friend.”

“You’re a ranger, too?” he wanted to know.

“Yes.” It was only a little lie to gain the innkeeper’s trust. I had ridden with Estel’s men often enough. In jest, Halbarad had started to call me a _honorary ranger_. And my current clothes certainly added to the effect.

The man breathed a sigh of relief at that. “I was hoping someone would come for him.”

I stared at him upon hearing those words. Estel was actually here and I would see him in just a few moments.

“He is here,” I said to myself, just to hear it aloud.

“Aye, he is,” the innkeeper answered.

“Show me,” was all I could say, because elaborate words failed me.

**Notes:**

\- Chapter title taken from the Billy Idol song “Rebel Yell”.

 **Translation:**  
anor – sun


	3. Lead him through the Dark

# 3\. Lead Him Through the Dark

It seemed what the building lacked in height, it made up in depth. The innkeeper led me steadily downwards, one staircase after the other and for a moment I wondered whether his establishment had been designed by dwarves. My trepidation grew, not only because I feared _why_ he would lead me down here, but because my natural aversion to spaces underground made itself known. I would never be comfortable with so much earth and stone above me.

The longer we walked the uneasier I became. My heart started to beat wildly in my chest and my nerves were frayed. The walls appeared to be closing in on me and I began to keep my hands on them, making certain they were not moving. After endless minuted of walking, the innkeeper stopped in front of a heavy door. He looked back at me, making sure I had followed, and then pushed the door open. My breath caught and in a moment of panic I closed my eyes. What was before me did not vanish though, but was replaced with the image from my dream.

The room was of crude making, the ground only trampled earth. There was no light apart from the candle the innkeeper had taken along and its flame flickered and danced nervously in the drafty cellar. The room seemed to be used for storage, because I could see barrels of wine and other stock lined against the walls.

That had not been the cause of my initial panic, of course. At the far wall a figure was lying, his back to us. There was no reason for the figure to turn. There was no reason for me to recognize the coat or the curve of the neck or the strands of hair that were slick from sweat. As it had been in my dream, the realization came instantly for it came from the heart, not the mind. I had indeed found Estel. He was lying on his side and even from my position at the door I could see the constant tremble that shook his body.

I was desperate to reach him.

In my dream I had been unable to enter, something intangible had held me back, keeping me from reaching Estel. Now though, I had no such problems. Without thought I rushed into the forbidding darkness to be by Estel’s side.

“You better be careful,” the innkeeper advised from behind me. “He’s dangerous.”

The man had come to stand just inside the door, as if he feared Estel might suddenly rise and attack him. A flicker of anger took root inside of me. I despised the man’s distrust, his unreasonable fear and the fact that he obviously had left Estel here to die, alone and without help.

Yet, I had no time to ponder the innkeeper, but instead hastened to reach Estel’s side. I do not remember the few steps leading me into the room. I do not remember crouching down beside him and touching, soothing, calming him. I spoke words, but I have no memory of what I said. In those first moments, there was nothing there besides me and Estel’s broken body.

He did not acknowledge that he was no longer alone. Dark shadows surrounded his sunken eyes, which were closed in either sleep or unconsciousness. His face seemed gaunt and his lips bloodless. He was pale under his tan and cold sweat was upon his brow. I could see his laboured breathing and when my fingers rested upon his throat I felt his pulse beat madly under his skin. Yet, its drum against my fingers was weak, barely even there, and I was reminded of a dying bird flapping its wings for the last time.

And then I saw the wound. It was partially hidden by his shirt and cloak, and someone must have applied a piece of cloth at one point to staunch the bleeding. Carefully, I tried to lift away the layers of fabric, but found myself unable to do so. Dried blood caused them to stick to his skin, but even my little effort forced a pained moan from Estel’s mouth and he shifted slightly. I looked at the amount of blood that had gathered on the crude floor and his clothes and then peered at the little of the wound that was visible around his shoulder. I closed my eyes in dismay.

“Oh, Estel,” I all but breathed. I had seen him wounded before and I had seen him sick, but this was past anything he ever had to endure and suddenly I feared for his life again. The wound did not show the clean lines a sword would leave and was too big to be caused by an arrow. Instead, it looked like a bite, the skin frayed and ripped apart, the edges uneven and inflamed. I could see his collarbone shine through in more than one place. No one had tended the wound and dried blood and dirt were everywhere. Estel was partially lying on it, probably in an attempt to stop the bleeding and alleviate the pain. But he was past such considerations now, oblivious to the world around him and shaken by the tremble that constantly moved through his body.

I had spoken through all my ministrations, meaningless words of love and devotion, slipping into Elvish without even noticing. And after a while, I do not know how long it took, his body started to react to my caresses. The trembling increased and my hands gripped him harder in the vain hope of stopping the shivers. A faint moan reached my ears then, and whispers so low not even I could discern them.

“Estel,” I called again trying to rouse him further. “Meleth, wake, please!”

With visible effort his eyes opened and their grey seemed unusually dark and dull to me. He stared into my face, uncomprehending, and then his feeble strength seemed to leave him again and his eyes slipped shut.

“Lassë.” It was a whisper only, his voice faint and weak as I had never heard it before. “I dream.” With that his eyes again opened to slits.

“You do not dream, meleth-nín!” I assured him. “You are alive and awake!”

“Called for you,” he whispered and I had to lean in close to catch his words. “You didn’t answer.” There was no accusation in his voice, just defeat. I had never seen him surrender to hopelessness before and the fact that he had obviously done so now scared me even more than the vicious wound he had received.

“But I heard you,” I was quick to assure him. “I heard your call and I came to find you. I am here now, all will be well. I promise you!”

A crooked smile was his answer, but his eyes stayed serious and shadowed. It was a bitter smile, a smile given in the face of death, and I blanched. “Do not dare give up on me!”

“Try. For you,” he answered and squeezed my hand weakly. I looked down and only now realized that I had taken his hand in mine. It was bloodied, dirty and not at all like the strong and gentle hand that had held and touched me so often.

The blood, the dirt, the whole ugliness of the situation brought me back to the present. I needed to tend to the wound. He needed a bed, loving care and rest. And he needed a proper healer.

“Estel, I will get you out of here. We will take a room and I will find a healer for you. That wound needs to be treated.” I did not try again to pry his clothes from the torn flesh. It would only hurt him without serving a purpose. In fact, apart from holding his hand sheltered in mine, I tried to touch him as little as possible, fearing every movement might hurt him.

My words agitated him. He shook his head, the motion exhausting him immediately. “No,” he protested. “Leave.”

Never! “Shh, I will not leave you here. We will do this together.” I tried to keep my voice level, hoping to assure him that I had this situation under control when in fact his injury threatened to scare me into total inaction.

He would not be calmed by my words. He frowned, trying to make me understand with as few words as possible. He shook his head, but the small motion unsettled his wound and bit back a cry, his mouth closed in a thin line while he breathed through the pain.

Once the spell had passed, he tried to explain. “Leave.” He breathed deeply, gathering his strength. “Together.” He looked at me, willing me to understand

“You do not want to stay here?” I clarified.

“Evil.” He started panting and closed his eyes tightly. I brushed the back of my hand against his burning forehead and felt him lean slightly into the touch. “Need ... get away.”

“Alright.” I had never really been able to say _no_ to him. He was severly, maybe even fatally, injured. He needed to rest somewhere safe and have his wound tended. He did not even look as if he _could_ leave this settlement.

However, I remembered the sense of encroaching darkness that had engulfed me upon entering the small town. At the time I had attributed it to the fact that I would perhaps find Estel here. But what if it had pointed to something more sinister? I would trust Estel’s judgement in this. If he felt the need to leave here, then we would do so.

I took a moment to formulate a plan and then my eyes searched for the innkeeper. He had not moved from his spot at the door and the single candle wavered in his hand, the nervous flicker of its flame reflecting on the crude walls, creating unsettling chimeras. It gave the situation an eerie and surreal feel. And truly, I wished this were all but a dream.

“Do you still have his things?” I inquired, daring him to tell me he had done away with Estel’s belongings. Instead, the man just pointed to a corner and truly, there was Estel’s pack, his bow and even his sword. It was not a weapon one kept for its beauty, but it was practical and had served him well. I could still remember the awed look on his face when his brothers had given him that sword for his twentieth birthday and knew he would be glad that the sword had not been lost.

I snatched the pack and looked through its contents: a tin plate and cup, a whetstone, some spare clothes, several knick-knacks and his healing herbs. I opened the little satchel in the hope of finding something that would strengthen him for the journey. A small vial, obviously elven made, aroused my curiosity. I opened the stopper, sniffed and raised an eyebrow.

“Is that miruvor?” I asked in disbelief. Upon my question Estel’s eyes opened to slits and he looked at the vial. His answer was more a simple blink than an actual nod, but I understood him nonetheless.

The vial had obviously been in use for it was half-empty. Still, I wondered how he had managed to come by it during his stay in Gondor. “Drink a few drops so it might strengthen you.” 

I lifted his head carefully and helped him to take two sips from the powerful drink. I decided to let him rest for a moment until the miruvor did its work. Meanwhile, I hoped the innkeeper could shed some light on what had happened here.

I addressed the man in question. “Does he have a horse?” A nod. “Alright, take his things with you and bring his horse out front. We will leave shortly. But first, tell me what happened.” I could not understand how Estel had ended up in this situation. Nothing made sense.

“Well,” the man started, his whole form crumbling under my expectant stare. Belatedly, I noticed that my hood had slipped and that Estel and I had spoken Elvish, but I could spare my repeated carelessness no thought.

“Well?” I demanded.

“He came here four days ago, sometime in the morning. Looked a right mess, like he had ridden a week straight to get here. Took a room and vanished till evening. He came down, ate and took a walk. And next thing I know my daughter Ema rushes in, in tears. She’s a good girl, you know, serving tables and helping in the kitchen. I had sent her over to my sister’s with some food. She’s sick. So she tells me she felt like she was being followed. She turned all the time, but could see none. And she’s nearly at my sister’s house when she turns again and there’s that ranger, his sword drawn.” Here he pointed at Estel accusingly. “She said, first she thought he had been followin’ her, but turns out that wasn’t the case. He told her to get back here and went right into the dark alley behind her.

“The story’s unsettling, so I gather a few men from the inn and we go to investigate. That alley is dark and uninviting. Nothing but rats and garbage there. And in the middle of it, we find the ranger. Wounded, his sword useless on the ground and a dead man right next to him. Naked, a dagger through his throat.”

I had believed Estel was too out of it to pay attention to the innkeeper’s story, but when the man ended his tale Estel started to shake his head again, mumbling under his breath, “all wrong.”

“What is all wrong?” I asked in an equally quiet tone, but got no answer. He had gone still again.

“The way I understand it, my friend saved your daughter from grave harm. He was even wounded by doing so. And this is how you thank him?” I waved at our surroundings, at Estel’s shivering form beneath me, at his blood that had dried on the trampled earth. My patience was running thin.

“We are decent folk,” the innkeeper answered indigantly and I raised an eyebrow at him. “He was unconscious, the wound bleeding heavily. I took my kerchief to press upon the wound and sent someone to get the wise woman. We carried him back to the inn, but we were hardly through the door when he woke and attacked us.”

“Attacked you?” Try as I might, I could not imagine Estel attacking these plain folk.

“Yes, growled at me like a wild animal, he did. Most unnatural. He took a dagger from somewhere to keep us at arm’s length. We tried to placate him, but he would have none of it. He took a swipe at the kitchen boy, even drew blood. He acted like a caged animal, but he was unsteady on his feet. The wound, no doubt. Someone clubbed him on the head and he went down like a stone. I didn’t know what to do with him, so we locked him in the storage room. He tried to attack me each time I came down to bring him water. Till he was too sick to do so.” The last was mumbled almost incoherently.

I was stunned speechless. Nothing in this tale made sense and just as Estel had said, this felt all wrong. The innkeeper stood for a moment, swallowing audibly and said, “I just didn’t know what to do! I’m so glad you came.” And with that he went silent again.

I had been ready to distrust the man’s words, but he seemed sincere. The fear and insecurity in his face were no act. However, that still left me with a story that refused to make any sense. What had happened in that alley? Who was the dead man?

“Who was the other man?”

The innkeeper fidgeted, rather unhappy with the question. “Well, he was... different.” To clarify his words, he waved his hand in front of his face, indicating insanity. “Fancied himself an alchemist, but most of the time his potions only made you incredibly drunk. We buried him at the crossroads, outside town.”

An alchemist. I stowed the information away for later use and hoped Estel would be able to answer my burning questions soon. Trying to get him to talk now seemed cruel to me. He was too wrapped up in his pain to think of anything else. Throughout the innkeeper’s tale he had held on to my hand with desperation, now and then mumbling to himself that he was “sorry” and that this was “all wrong”, but nothing further was forthcoming.

I sent the innkeeper away to get Estel’s horse ready and concentrated on my love again. His breathing seemed to be steadier, but his eyes were still closed.

“’nother minute”, he whispered even before I could ask whether the miruvor had helped at all. We sat there, in this dark hole and there was nothing but Estel’s breaths to fill the silence. I held his hand and concentrated all my being on this connection between us. I willed him to get better, to be strong and fight. And then all these thoughts drained from my mind, seemingly right into Estel’s waiting body until I felt him shift and turn unto his back.

“Help me up,” he said quietly, but his voice held a new resolve and I took heart. He opened his eyes and they appeared to be a little clearer. They were still glazed and not quite focused when he looked at me, but they were undeniably Estel’s eyes and I was glad to see recognition and love in them.

To get him onto his feet was a slow and tedious affair. He was not even sitting up when I felt him sway with dizziness. The bloodloss made him lightheaded and he grabbed my shirt to keep himself upright. I scooted closer and cradled him to my body, letting him breathe through the attack until the spell had passed. That was only the first setback and we had to stop frequently in our ascent until Estel finally stood on unsteady feet. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead and his cheeks were flushed from the exertion, but he refused to wait any longer and took a step forwards. And then it was followed by another and another.

I only held him by the elbow, because I knew how much he loathed to appear weak and incapacitated in front of others. And when we finally reached the crowded taproom he might have looked like one nearly walking under his own power to the patrons. It was only I who felt how heavily he leaned upon me and how he shook from exhaustion. However, the need to leave this place burned bright in his fevered eyes, so I did not propose he take a seat for a minute, but led him on until we stood in front of the inn, the sinking sun painting Estel’s pale face blood-red.

The innkeeper stood, a horse by each hand. One was Eadie, stout but elegant, and perfectly groomed. And the other was an enourmous beast with a dirty coat that let his head hang low in boredom. I saw flecks of grey in its coat and it swished its tail absentmindedly, probably to chase off some flies. Estel’s gear was strapped to the – was that brownish? Reddish? - horse and my opinion of the innkeeper fell again.

“You would try to palm us off like that? That horse is a mess!”

The innkeeper looked horrified and Estel, who had been concentrating on his feet, tried to lift his head. “But that’s the horse he came with, I swear!” The man tried to wring his hands, which was quite difficult since he was holding the reins of two horses.

“Mouse,” Estel mumbled and I looked down and about ourselves in confusion, not seeing a mouse anywhere. I feared the walk upstairs might have been more taxing than I had anticipated and felt Estel’s forehead, but he shook my hand away and looked at the two horses. “Mouse,” he repeated and a small grin played around his mouth.

“Your horse?” I asked Estel, incrediously. His smile widened and I shook my head in a mock show of disbelief. Or maybe it was real disbelief – in contrast to Mouse even a mule might have looked good.

Estel walked a little easier once we had left the inn behind and helping him upon his horse was actually not as hard as I had feared. Standing right next him I could see his slumped shoulders, the way he favoured his left side and how his hands gripped the reins until the knuckles turned white. He was exhausted and in pain. He could not fool me, but maybe he could fool the rest of the town.

I mounted Eadie and hoped Mouse would follow on his own, because I doubted Estel would be able to direct his horse in the state he was in. Obviously, the horse seemed to understand his master’s predicament and fell in step with Eadie.

I looked back one last time and nodded at the innkeeper. I hoped he understood my message, because after the way I had found Estel I was unable to actually thank him. I sincerely hoped I would never set foot in this town again.

We rode on, slowly to not uproot Estel’s balance, and I saw faces behind windows and curtains that moved as if by the wind. We were watched and I saw Estel straighten his shoulders and lift his head. I knew he could not uphold this posture for long, but the forest was not far now. Once there, it was only him and me. Once there, he could begin to heal.

**Notes:**

  * Chapter titles come Tarja Turunen’s song “Boy and the Ghost”.




**Translation:**

meleth – love

meleth-nín – my love


	4. In the Darkest Night

# 4\. In the Darkest Night

We had left the town behind more than half an hour ago. We were riding in silence; shock at this unexpected turn of events made me taciturn and Estel was simply too weak to spare any strength for conversation. The regular movements of the horse under me should have helped me bring some order into my thoughts, but it was difficult to make sense of what I had learned in that town.

What I knew was this: Estel had stopped there, probably to catch up on his sleep. He had taken a walk and had entered that alley, because he suspected something evil to dwell there. He had then been found, severly injured, the body of a dead man next to him. He had been killed by Estel’s dagger. What I did not know: Who had attacked first? The man or Estel? And why? And how had Estel come by that wound since it had not been caused by a weapon? Had there been an animal with the unknown man that had managed to escape? There were too many unanswered questions to make sense of the tale and I once again hoped Estel would bring some light to these happenings.

That conversation would have to wait until he felt better. _If_ he ever felt better, a nagging voice in my mind added and I shuddered at the thought. I had thought long and hard about what would happen if Estel ever died, mulling the possibilities over in my mind while I already failed at the simple task of imagining Estel dead – his vibrant laugh, his lively eyes, his quick wit. How could I not ponder these questions when Estel was mortal and I was bound to live until the world was changed. When I had first fallen in love with him this very thought had kept me awake at night. I used to lie next to him, watching him sleep, trying to figure out what Ilúvatar’s intention had been when he had created the Secondborn. Mortality was something I could not understand. How could fifty years, eighty or even one hundred be enough to experience all that Arda had to offer? How could humans remain sane when they knew that every day, every hour even, brought them closer to the end? How could they remain so calm in the face of death?

I had not found answers to all my questions, but I came to understand that a mortal’s life burnt hot and bright, like a candle that flickered against a strong wind until it was suddenly snuffed out. I came to understand that even humans had no greater understanding of Ilúvatar’s gift and that they chose to either accept or curse it. In the end, I could do no other than tell myself that Estel was young and that there were yet more years before us than there were behind.

That thought gave me no comfort now, for even if Estel was yet young this wound might take him from me before his time. It could be fatal – I repeated that insight again and again in my mind trying to come to terms with that danger. Assuming that he had been wounded the night in which he had called for me in my dream meant that he had held out in that cellar for four days. Four days, in which the wound had not been treated and had been allowed to fester and weaken his body. It had bled too much to begin with and his body had had no chance to replenish what it had lost.

No, I chagrined myself. Estel would not die like this. Lord Elrond had told me time and again that his legacy gave him the strength to survive what would kill any other human. His body was strong and his mind was – well, to be truthful, he was terribly thick-headed. He had held out until I had found him. He had not died in that cellar and he would not do so now. He was fighting and that was what he always did best.

His body was failing him, though, I could see that every time my gaze went in his direction. Estel rested his left hand on the saddle and held onto the reins with his right. He kept himself upright by the sheer force of his will, but I could see that his eyes took no interest in his surroundings, did not even seem to recognize where he was. He was still somewhat conscious, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

It did not come as a surprise to me when Estel lost his grip causing his body to slump forward. He might have fallen, but my eyes had been on him constantly and as soon as I saw him falter I jumped from Eadie’s back unto Mouse’s in one fluent movement and settled in behind him. I took up Mouse’s reins with my right and carefully took his left hand, supporting his arm and cradling it close to his body. My head rested lightly on his good shoulder and I could feel the heat that radiated off his skin despite his shivers.

Feeling me at his back seemed to rouse him a bit, obviously stroking the fire of his own pride.

“I ... can ride,” he forced out, his words instantly soothing me. To attempt much more than he was able, regardless of the consequences or the cost to himself was something I had come to accept, even love, where Estel was concerned. He had been too silent, too accepting of his fate so far and it had unnerved me. But to hear him speak thus, even in a low whisper, gave me hope. It meant he was truly fighting.

“I know you can, meleth-nín,” I answered with a smile in my voice, ready to humor him. “I want to be close to you, do not deny me this.”

It was the truth of course. I had missed him desperately these past years and wished nothing more than to be near him. If it also served to uphold Estel’s balance on his horse, then that was an added bonus.

He turned his head slightly, the movement a clear invitation. I kissed the corner of his mouth and let the kiss linger, feeling his dry lips and his fevered breath when he exhaled. But the corner of his mouth turned slightly upwards when he noticed that I refused to end the kiss and that was all the reassurance I needed. We were together once more, regardless of the circumstances.

“Do you remember how we used to ride like this?” I asked him without actually expecting an answer. He sighed, snuggling deeper into my embrace, but stayed silent.

“It was during our first summer together. We would go riding in the woods surrounding Rivendell on your horse. What was her name again?” I remembered a stubborn chestnut mare that took pleasure in biting my shoulder, but her name escaped me at the moment.

“Candë,” Estel put in helpfully and I was glad that he was conscious enough to follow my ramblings.

“Ah yes, of course! Candë. She had a fiery temperament.” I chuckled. “Do you remember how we both rode her? You were in front of me, holding the reins, and I would cradle you in my arms – like I am doing now, and we would let her run freely and laugh. I like to remember those times. They were free from worry and doubt.”

He shifted in my arms, probably because his wound was paining him and I could not help but add, “we will have those times again, you and I. I promise!” I embraced him even harder, hoping that I had not given a promise that I was unable to keep.

We rode like this for a while longer and nothing but Estel’s laboured breaths and the _click-clack_ of horse-hooves filled the silence between us. I tried to gather my strength, thinking ahead and planning for I knew I had to treat Estel’s wound as soon as we stopped. I feared this night would be long and difficult for both of us.

I suspected he had drifted off to sleep when he called me. “Lassë.” The word was nothing more than a dying rasp and that told me everything I needed to know.

“Shh,” I calmed him to keep him from further exhausting himself with speech when I had already understood his intent. His energy was utterly spent and we needed to stop for the night. “We will stop as soon as I find a place to camp. Try to rest for a bit.”

His eyes closed, but his body, stiff from pain, never relaxed, and I knew sleep would not come to him. I began to hum quietly to at least ease our journey for him, but my eyes strayed ever and anon in the hope of finding a suitable resting place for the night.

The sun had already set when the forest became less dense. It was a perfect summer night, warm and clear, and the almost full moon shone down on us, illuminating our surroundings enough so that I could navigate the forest with ease. To our right was a group of trees that stood in something resembling a triangle. The tree at the apex of the triangle was old, its wide branches spreading a canopy of green above us. Those trees would shelter us, and maybe even Estel could draw some strength from this old soul.

“We are here, Estel. Enough traveling for today.” I spoke to myself. Estel did not answer, even if he was willful enough to open his eyes at my announcement.

I dismounted and drew him with me, cradling him against me once again. I held him like a child, one arm supporting his knees and one supporting his shoulders. If he had been more aware he probably would have chided me that he could walk under his own power. As it was he only turned his head into my chest, swallowing the cries of pain that wanted to escape.

I set him down against the old tree and scoured both our packs for blankets I could use to make him more comfortable. My constant walking and bustling about seemed to rouse him and his eyes tried to take in his surroundings. When I started a fire and laid out his healing herbs about us, he followed my actions with a fatalistic indifference.

I stripped his coat off him and soon realized that it was way past saving. Too much cloth was simply missing and he would look like a beggar if he chose to stitch the rest. I tried to get his shirt off him as well, but soon had to realize that the cloth stuck to the wound. I would have to try to wash it off with warm water and was relieved when I found that the innkeeper had refilled our water skins.

I offered Estel some of it and he drank eagerly for the water helped to revive him a bit. I needed him a little more lucid, because it would be hopeless to attempt this without his help.

“Meleth, you have to help me. Tell me what to do. You know I only recognize half the herbs you carry with you.” I hated the fact that I had to ask this of him and vowed I would implore Lord Elrond to teach me more of the healing arts. He had always insisted I had a good hand at these things, but I had never spent enough time and energy to truly study more than what was necessary for the battlefield.

I held his hand, squeezing it to keep him alert and his eyes strayed over the herbs and knives I had laid out. Then his mind seemed to draw inwards, assessing his body’s discomfort.

“Reopen the wound,” he told me, his words slow and yet detached and I knew he was trying to seperate his mind from the pain his body was in. “Clean it with water.” He swallowed and I gave him another sip to drink.

“Should I stitch it?”

“Not yet. Bind it. Soak ... the bandage in...” Here he faltered, his gaze falling on the herbs as if he had never seen anything of the like before. But then he rallied and his shaking finger pointed to some roots.

“All right, I understand,” I was quick to assure him. “Do you have anything for the pain?” My voice was hopeful.

He shook his head and pointed at a green plant I recognized. It was meant to relax and calm a patient. That was not exactly what we needed right now, but it would have to do.

“We will try it nonetheless,” I told him and went to prepare a tea from the herb he had shown me, letting it cool down a bit before offering it to Estel.

He drank the tea without protest and let his head fall back against the trunk of the tree. It only took a few minutes for his breathing to go a little easier and my fingers on his pulse told me that his heart had calmed a bit. It was time, I realized, and my own heart began to race immediately. My hands cradled his head, forcing him to listen to me. His eyes were wide and glassy in the firelight, but he was trying to hold my gaze and I marvelled at his courage.

“I am going to start now. Tell me when you need me to stop. And do not try to be a hero. There is no one here you need to be strong for. Just you and me. Do you understand?” I knew him to be stubborn enough to swallow his pain until he fainted. But it was an unnecessary effort and I would rather he did not waste his strength like this.

“Yes,” Estel answered with a firm voice. He looked at me for a moment and then closed his eyes, turning his head to the side. It was a small blessings for I could not imagine treating his wound while his eyes were upon me.

I took up a cloth and soaked it in lukewarm water. My first task was to get the shirt off, but my hand stopped in mid-air and I felt my arm tremble. We had hunted and fought together and I was no stranger to his pain. I had cared for him before, when he had been ill or wounded. But I could not remember a time when the situation had been so dire with only me around to help him. If I made a mistake now it could very well cost him his life.

Estel must have noticed my faltering courage, because he turned his head back and opened his eyes again with difficulty. He looked at my wavering hand and brought his own up, grasping my hand with sweaty and dirty fingers.

“You can do this,” he said, squeezing my hand to demonstrate his conviction. “Do not be afraid.”

I laughed, a harsh and choked sound that threatened to turn into a sob. I swallowed the panic that welled up again. “It should be the other way round, meleth. It should be me encouraging you.”

“You are.” He sounded as if he was reciting a common truth and gave me the first real smile I had seen from him today. “You are my strength. Always have been.”

I could not help it, I leaned in and kissed him. Estel opened his mouth as soon as my lips were on him, inviting my caresses wordlessly. I saw his eyes close and did the same to better savour this little interlude. Usually, there would be a short skirmish for dominance, but now he simply yielded, letting me set the pace. I had meant this kiss to be short, but I lost myself in the emotions this was evoking in me. I had not noticed how cold I had felt until the warmth of our shared bodies spread in me, giving me the comfort I so desperately needed right now. I was only called back to reality when I felt Estel’s breath become heavier.

I wanted to apologize to him for getting sidetracked when we had more pressing needs, but then I saw that our kiss had left him content. A wistful smile was curling his mouth and a blush from something else than fever had coloured his cheeks. It might not exactly have calmed him, but maybe a simply kiss was a more powerful remedy than any herb could be.

Estel let go of my hand and turned his head to the side again, silently giving me permission to proceed. He placed all his trust in me and that alone steadied my hand and strengthened my heart. There was no turning back now.

When I first came in contact with the wound, Estel’s body jerked to the side and I heard his breath come in pants. Startled by the violent reaction I took my hand away and gave him a moment to compose himself. When I next touched him, I saw his jaw tighten but otherwise he held himself still.

It took a long time to soak the wound until the scab losened and I could peel of the shirt. It was a tedious process – dabbing at the wound, tugging at the shirt, hearing Estel’s hiss of pain when a bit of skin came off after all. I had thought the wound bad when I had seen it in the cellar, with nothing but a single candle as my only light. But now, with Estel’s chest exposed and the wound wholly visible for the first time, fear gripped me again. His whole left shoulder was ripped apart as if a beast had bitten into his collarbone, unable to let go in its bloodlust. I saw muscle and raw flesh and in some place the shining white of bone as well. To know that the one I loved most in Arda had been hurt to such an extent made me shiver with anger and rage.

My attempt to get off the shirt had already caused the wound to bleed sluggishly in places. I took Estel’s small surgical knife, slim and sharp, and set it to his flesh intent on cutting the wound open enough that pus and dirt could drain from it. The act tore at my heart and I thought that Lord Elrond had been wrong. I was not made for work such as this and when I heard a groan from Estel, I was ready to throw the knife away, unable to inflict such pain on him. His right hand had gripped my hip and the touch brought me back from my thoughts. I was doing this to help Estel and it would only take longer and be even more arduous if I made such a half-hearted attempt. I tried to steel myself against his pain, ignoring his reactions as much as possible. It helped, to a certain extent, but after most of his shoulder was bleeding freely, the blood coming in a stark red, we had to stop for a moment. I was trembling from head to toe and Estel swallowed convulsively before he gave up and emptied his stomach of the little it had still contained.

When we started again, I probed the inflamed skin around the wound and poured water on it. I found a flask of strong wine in Estel’s pack and used that on the parts that looked most aggravated. When the alcohol came in contact with his flesh, he screamed, loud and hard. I felt Estel’s whole body go stiff under my hands. When I looked up from my task I saw his eyes lose their focus. His breathing came in ragged pants and then, thankfully, his body gave out and he slid sideways, unconscious.

I caught him easily and checked his pulse, thankful that he would be spared further pain. His forehead was bathed in cold sweat and I spared a moment to wipe the moisture away. I laid him onto our blankets and finished tending to his wounds. I soaked the bandages in a solution made from the root he had shown me and bandaged the wound with difficulty. I made a sling for his arm to keep it immobile, hoping that that would further healing. I clothed him in a spare shirt from his pack and drew the blanket up to his chin to keep him warm.

Sleep refused to come to me that night. I tended the horses and then sat down next to Estel, intent on keeping vigil over his sleeping form. Unconsciousness had given way to a restless sleep a while ago. He frowned and opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. He fidgeted under his cover and sweat broke out anew upon his brow.

My heart was heavy while I watched his dark dreams. This was not how I had imagined out reunion to go. I had seen us spend carefree days in our cave, talking, kissing, joking. I had seen us make love, eager to feel skin to skin once more and I was curious to see the changes time had yet again left on his body. None of this had happened. Instead, Estel was fighting for his life and there was no one but me to help him stay in this word. I just hoped that would be enough.

I was not able to sit by and _not_ touch him. At first, I simply took his hand, kissing his fingertips and resting it in my lap. When that was not enough, my fingers brushed over his forehead, feeling the unnatural heat there. I threaded my fingers through his hair, fondly remembering how much longer it had been when we had first met. But none of these touches seemed enough, so I finally laid down next to him, careful not to hurt him. My body so close to his did not stop his fitful sleep, but it did a lot to calm my racing nerves.

This was how we spent our first night together after being seperated for long years. I wish it had been different, but at least we were together.

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the song “Truly Living” by Girls under Glass.




**Translation:**

meleth – love

meleth-nín – my love

Arda – the world

candë – bold


	5. A Kiss at a Time

# 5\. A Kiss at a Time

When the sun rose to announce the beginning of a new day, I reluctantly got up, leaving Estel to sleep close to the fire to allow him as much rest as possible. Last night, when I had gone through Estel’s pack for his healing supplies, I had found that the innkeeper had not only refilled our water skins, but had also replenished our provisions. There were fresh bread and dried meat in my pack – things that definitely had not been there before. I was once again of a divided mind where the innkeeper was concerned. He had done nothing to help Estel – and that I could hardly forgive -, but his relief upon seeing me take matters into hand had spurred him into action, it seemed. Humans... it was hard to make sense of their actions sometimes.

I only ate a bit of bread, hoping the wide selection of food would incite Estel’s appetite. When I was done eating I let my eyes travel over our small camp, trying to decide how to best fill my time until Estel woke. I brushed down the horses, using the time to acquaint myself with Estel’s enormous gelding. Mouse he had called him, which had obviously been a joke, because he stood two hands higher than Eadie and she was by no means small. Mouse let me stroke his nose, but when he realized I had no treat for him, he focused his attention elsewhere. He seemed occupied with nothing but finding food and he munched on anything edible he could reach from where he was tethered: grass, leaves, even branches were not safe from him. I shrugged, amused by his antics, and decided Mouse must be the first horse able to resist my Elven charm. If Estel found out, I would never hear the end of it, for he truly believed that the magic of the eldar worked on any living creature.

I turned to Eadie instead, who was not tethered at all, and rubbed her forehead affectionately. I had hoped my interaction with the horses would distract me, but I caught myself throwing glances at Estel’s sleeping form every few minutes. I wanted to leave this place as soon as possible and get my love somewhere safe where he could rest and regain his strength. But at the same time I wanted to let him sleep for as long as possible. He certainly needed it, as the dark shadows under his eyes proved.

The day was well underway when Estel finally stirred. I had spent the past hours in an attempt to repair some of my arrows. In the end I had to accept that I was too wired for such accurate work and settled down to watch over Estel’s dreams. His nightmares seemed to have stopped and he was resting peacefully, but for quite some time now I had had the feeling that he was slowly waking. When he did awake, it surprised me nonetheless.

His eyes opened suddenly and completely, but his mind followed more slowly. He stared up into the clear blue summer sky unblinking, and I could all but see how awareness started to return to him. Panic briefly reflected in his gaze and then his eyes moved searchingly. I sat frozen, transfixed by the colour of his eyes. They had always attracted all kinds of other shades and at the moment were giving of a soft hue of light-blue. I supposed the spotless sky was reflected in his eyes. In times past I had seen his eyes turn green as well and sometimes, when he was angry or passionate, they even took on a shade of amber. Maybe that was one of the reasons why I never grew bored of drowning in his eyes.

I will never forget the flood of emotion visible on his face when he noticed my presence. Unconsciously, I had lifted my hand to cup his cheek and in return, his hand flew up to cover mine. Relief, pure and untainted, showed in his features.

“Melle.” I loved to hear him speak the old endearment and I felt the strong urge to embrace him. I feared hurting him, so I stayed where I was.

“Is it really you?” Maybe it was a rhetorical question, but the note of uncertainty in his voice made me answer, ready to give him all the reassurance he would need.

“Of course it is, meleth-nín,” I soothed, letting my fingertips brush over his lips. They parted at once, inviting a touch more intimate.

“You are not a dream.” His hand tightened around mine, both still lingering against his cheek. “I am not in that cellar.” He breathed deeply, taking a big gulp of forest air, probably in an attempt to answer the question for himself.

“I am as real as you are. I heard you call for me and came as soon as I could.”

“I am glad.” Silence engulfed us while he took his time to simply look at me. I might have been disturbed by his intense stare, but I had grown used to his silent perusal over the last years. After a long seperation he would look at me like this – long and hard as if he needed to commit my face to memory once more. He would gaze at me unblinking, focusing on my left eye, my right eye, my nose, my cheeks, my lips. The list was virtually endless: During our last rendezvous he had even fixedly looked at my toes. So I sat still now, letting him look his fill. I saw his eyes roam my face, looking for any change in my features that he might have missed over the years. Slowly he raised his hand to my face and let his fingers trace my brow, my cheek and my lips only to let them tangle in my unbraided hair. I imagined it must look a mess, for while I had searched for things to fill my time while Estel slept, I had not thought to make myself presentable for the moment when he woke.

“It is longer than the last time we saw each other,” he said while twirling a lock around his finger. “So beautiful, just like I remember.”

The smile on my face froze when I noticed his unsuccesful attempts to sit up. He tried to get his hands under him to push himself into a sitting position, but he was too weak to do so with only one hand and huffed at his useless left arm, still secure in the sling I had fashioned last night.

“I think you should rest a bit more,” I said half-heartedly, knowing from past experience that I was likely to lose this argument.

“I am resting, I just want to do it sitting up,” he groused, not deterred by the fact that his right arm already shook from the exercise.

“Estel, please.” I put a hand on his chest to keep him flat on his back, but he struggled against the restraint.

“I will sit up, but it will be easier if you help me.”

“I feared you would say that.” I helped him up, trying to jostle his shoulder as little as possible, but the movement jarred his wound. He swallowed his pain and helped me position him between my legs. I was sitting up against the old tree and Estel rested against me. He was short of breath and winced when he tried to find the most comfortable position, but if I had to be honest with myself I had to admit that I loved to see him attempt sitting up. I would just keep that insight to myself.

He looked around, thankfully much more alert than last night, and I could tell that his eyes were almost free from fever. His movements were stiff, but his mind was alert. He was doing a lot better than last night, but I was not fooled. This was not over by a long shot.

“Where are we?” Estel asked, his gaze roaming trees and bushes as if he was searching for landmarks that were known to him.

“Not far from the town I found you in. You were unable to go on, so we made camp here,” I answered his question.

“I do not remember.” He frowned, vexed by the fact that his memory was deserting him.

“You do not remember that we left yesterday? Do you remember the ride? Or how I treated your wound?”

He took his time to search for a memory, but found none. “No.” His frown deepened and I saw him draw inwards to find some snatch of memory. I hoped he would come up blank.

“It is just as well. Those were not hours worth remembering.”

“Every hour with you is worth remembering,” Estel said with conviction. “So many years of being parted from you and the first thing I do is forget the night of our reunion.” He was frustrated with himself, but I was glad he had forgotten the pain last night had brought him.

“I will hold that memory for both of us. I would rather you would not be troubled by remembering those hours.” He understood finally what I had left unsaid so far – that these hours had by no means been pleasurable for him. He fell silent, leaning heavily against me, and if I had not felt the thick bandage covering his shoulder I could have pretended we were just enjoying a late morning together, lazing around, seeing the day pass by as we revelled in each other’s company.

Estel shifted, hissing when his wound protested the movement, and the illusion was shattered.

“How do you feel?” I asked tentatively, stroking my fingers through his hair. The caress had always soothed him.

“Stiff, tired. But better.”

“Does your wound pain you?” I realized the stupidity of my questions as soon as it left my mouth. His shoulder was ripped apart, a bloody mess that had hardly begun to heal. It should actually be a surprise that he was not screaming in pure agony.

“Do you really need to ask?” he chuckled, but it turned into a pained gasp.

“I am sorry, that was a foolish question. I have seen the wound, I know you are in pain.” After a small pause I continued. “Do you think you can ride? I would like to leave this place, we cannot stay here indefinitely.”

Obviously Estel would have prefered to do just that, because he seemed almost back to his usual self as long as we were sitting here. He knew we would have to leave eventually, and so he straightened, trying to sit without my assistance. I left my place at his back and sat in front of him, ready to assist if the pain got the better of him. He tried to rotate his shoulder and turn his upper body. He turned pale and his breath quickened, but he was not disheartened. I could not watch him, though, and stilled his experimental movement with my hand.

Once he had regained his breath enough to speak, he said. “We should leave here. I will manage, I think.”

“We will both ride Eadie while your horse carries our packs. Her gait is smoother.” Riding would pain him in any case, it was just a question of making him as comfortable as possible.

“Eadie?” he asked with interest and his eyes strayed over our camp, coming to rest on the horses. “You brought Éadgifu.” There was surprise in his voice.

“Of course I did, she is a magnificient horse, a wonderful gift. I hope you feel better soon, so that I can thank you properly.”

He blushed, a charming shade of crimson appearing on his cheeks like it had done years and years ago when a simple kiss in front of his family would embarass him to no end. He lowered his eyes and the blush deepened even more causing something to tug fiercely at my heart.

“I would like that.” He smiled shyly at me, his long lashes fluttering temptingly. It made him look twenty again and I felt a sudden surge of love seize my heart and leave me breathless.

“I love you, Estel.” It felt good to say those words again. I had said them in the dead of night, lying alone in my bed. I had said them to the trees in Mirkwood, hearing nothing but the sway of their branches in answer. I had said them to myself every day for the past ten years, but it did not compare to saying them to him, seeing the power of those words and how they changed his face.

“I love you,” I said again, and because I could not help it I added: “Do not scare me like this ever again.”

I got up abruptly. It happened from time to time, that my feelings for Estel scared me. Their intensity, inevitability, the fact that we had gone past the point of no return long ago. Lúthien must have felt the same, seeing the years leave their mark on Beren’s face. And still she did not waver. I had vowed that I would do as she had done – stand by the man’s side until he drew his last breath. Longer even, if the Valar allowed. Those fears would never rule me, but they seized me on rare occassions.

I called for Eadie to keep Estel company while I broke camp. I took refuge in the simple tasks of filling our packs, putting out the fire and erasing all tracks we had left here. From the corner of my eye I saw Estel painfully reach up and stroke the horse’s snout. She lowered her head as if knowing that the man had trouble reaching up to her. I saw Estel speak in a low voice and chuckle when Eadie started to affectionately nib at his hair. They reacquainted themselves with each other and somehow, all my fears were calmed. Just like that.

Soon there was nothing to be done anymore, so I saddled Eadie and strapped all our belongings on Mouse. When I went over to Estel he looked at me uncertainly, not sure where we stood with each other after my little outburst. I cursed myself for causing him heartache when he was so in need of my love and support. I drew a smile from somewhere and he relaxed in response, finding in my face what he had looked for. We did not speak of my unecessary show of emotion. Instead, I wordlessly offered him the last of our water as a peace offering. He drank eagerly, just like last night, but refused to eat anything He did not even touch the strawberries, ignoring their ripe smell and dark-red colour.

I helped him mount and settled in behind him, mirroring our positions from last night. “We will need water to refill our skins. Let us hope we cross a stream soon,” I said and nudged Eadie to start moving. Estel tried to hide it, but I felt his discomfort at the continuous movement. I should have spent my morning searching for a herb that would dull Estel’s pain. I silently vowed I would do so when we stopped next.

We made slow progress, because every time Eadie quickened her gait, I felt Estel stiffen. Unconsciously he would grip my hands tightly where they encircled his middle and I knew he was in pain. I have always known him to be willing to swallow his pain and discomfort as if it was something he needed to be ashamed of. I guess he developped that particular character trait while he grew up as the only human amongst elves, who would not be as incapacitated by wounds, the elements, thirst or exhaustion. He despised showing his own weaknesses in front of others and it had taken me a long time to convince him that he could show his doubts and fears in my presence.

Being stubborn where his own wellbeing was concerned had become second nature to him and I knew he could take a lot without voicing his pain. He was a grown man, a healer even, and I had learned to trust his judgement in his these things, even if he tended to push his own body to the limit. Therefore I did not offer taking a break, still in the hope of coming upon water soon. I could be certain that Estel would let me know if he truly needed to rest for a while.

It was well after noon and the sun was high in the sky when I finally heard the sound of water in the distance. Silently, I breathed a sigh of relief. Estel had lost a lot of blood and he needed water to replace the fluids in his body. I had felt him withdraw into himself with every hour we rode on and knew that nothing but water would help revive him a little.

“Do you hear that?” I spoke into his ear, because his head had come to rest against my shoulder. He had dozed for a while, coming awake from time to time and falling asleep only moments later. His eyes had been open for a while now, but he seemed listless and desinterested.

“Mhmm, what?” He lifted his head a little to indicate that he was listening.

“There is a stream ahead, I can hear the bubble of water. We will take a break there, all right?”

He only nodded, falling silent again and resting his head back against my shoulder when he realized that our journey was not yet over. I resisted the need to urge Eadie into a canter, knowing that a faster pace was out of the question. I concentrated on the sound of water instead, rejoicing when I saw a small stream ahead.

It was a lovely place. It was June after all, and all around us flowers blossomed, inviting miriads of bees to taste their nectar. The grass was green and succulent. Birch trees let their branches sway in the light breeze, their leaves a living baldachin above us, offering shade from the summer sun. And right in front of us was a stream, its water bubbling merrily over rock and root. A little ahead of us the stream widened into a little pond and this was where I decided we should make camp.

The first thing I did after helping Estel down from the horse was refilling one of the water skins and offering it to him. His lips were parched and when I touched his forehead I felt its burn against my skin. His eyes held a slight glaze again and I knew the ride had tired him more than I had anticipated.

“You should have said something.” I chided him as much as myself, thinking that I should have realized his deteriorating health.

“There was nothing to be done about it. Do not worry so.” He gave me an apologetic smile before drinking eagerly.

Once again, the water seemed to refresh him and to my surprise he asked to taste some of the strawberries I had bought the day before. He ate two, chewing slowly and deliberately, but declined to take another one.

“I guess I was not hungry after all,” he excused his lack of appetite when I tried to persuade him to eat some of the bread at least.

“You need to eat. You need to build up your strength again, please!” He took a few bites from the loaf, but I knew he was making the effort only for my sake and not because he craved the nourishment.

Though claiming not to be hungry, I could tell how life started to return to him after he had drunk and eaten. He leaned against my shoulder, his hand playing idly with my fingers, his eyes closed while his head was turned towards the sun. A small smile curled around his mouth as if he had forgotten his plight for the moment.

I was loath to break the companionable silence between us, but I knew we could not sit like this forever.

“Estel, I need to take a look at the wound and see whether the bandanges need to be changed. I am sorry.”

I felt him nod against my shoulder, but he did not let go of my hand.

“I am filthy. I want to take a bath.” I could understand the sentiment all to well. Even if he had managed to take a bath in that town, before all this had happened (and somehow I doubted that the inn offered something as luxurious as a bath), he had spent days in that cellar. Blood had mingled with dirt had mingled with sweat and I was not surprised that he wanted to wash the memory away.

“Are you certain that is a good idea? Moving around so much?”

“Yes.” Knowing it would do much to convince me he added, “it will fight the fever as well.”

So he was honest enough to admit that he was feverish again. That told me much about how he was feeling overall.

“Then let us try,” I extricated myself from our embrace, trying to come up with a plan for our bath.

I decided that I would have him sit down in the shallow water while I washed him. I stripped first and tied my hair in a knot to keep it dry. Naked, I proceeded to help Estel out of his clothes as well. Boots and leggins were easy enough, but shedding his shirt was painful since he could not move his shoulder freely. He had bled through the bandage and the cloth showed red in various places. I did not touch it for the moment, deciding to wash the wound seperately after our bath. The circumstances were dire and my mind was bent on nothing but helping Estel and lessening his pain. My body seemed to think differently, though, because I felt my desire for him flare the longer my hands were on his body, revealing more and more of his skin. There were new scars, there always were when we met after a long seperation, but apart from that it was the same hard muscle and patches of skin I loved to hold on to when we made love.

We had other priorities at the moment and I told my hands not to stray from their task. It was difficult, but seeing Estel’s pained face once he tried to stand brought me back to myself. He was leaning heavily on me, trusting me to carry most of his weight, when we made our way to the pond in small steps. Once inside the water, I tightened my grip on him lest he lose his balance and fall, but nothing of the sort happened. We entered until the water lapped on our thighs and I helped him to sit down. Goosebumps appeared on his arms, but he sighed in bliss when the water lapped against his skin.

Now he was attacked by the thoughts I had battled only minutes prior. His eyes followed my every move when I got back to shore to dig the soap out of my pack. When I was back in the water with him, standing in front of him, his right hand reached out and stroked my leg. It was one smooth move upwards, as far as he could reach, but even that simple touch made my nerves tingle.

“You are so beautiful,” he told me reverently. “When I was away I used to dream about your beauty, your face, your skin, your smile. And still, seeing you now I realize, that reality puts my dreams to shame. I am truly blessed to have you.” His hand on my thigh nudged me forwards, nearer to him, and I complied happily.

I leant down to him. “We are both blessed then. For I remember the boy you were and the warrior you have become and I rejoice. Because deep down you are still the man I fell in love with. Here,” I let my hand rest above his heart, feeling the rough cloth of the blood-spotted bandage under my fingers. “Here you never change.”

I kissed him and he responded eagerly. Last night he had let my affection wash over him, but now he participated in the kiss and we both enjoyed the feel of lips against lips, of equals giving each other pleasure. I tasted the strawberries he had eaten and it added a touch of summer to the desperation of our kiss. He leaned into me, wanting our skin to touch, but I was loath to let this go any further right now.

“Lately we always end up kissing when I am about to tend your wound,” I said, only half-joking, when I was finally able part with his lips.

There was a twinkle in his eye and a definite upwards curve to his mouth. “I could get used to this. Maybe we should make this a new rule: No tending to wounds without a kiss.”

“I did not know there were rules now! Knowing you, you would get wounded on purpose just to steal a kiss.” I had missed our friendly banter up until now.

“Maybe.” He weighed his head left and right as if giving the matter serious thought.

“As if I would never kiss you otherwise!”

“There could always be more kisses from you. I am just a poor mortal, I have to use every advantage I can get!”

This could have gone on endlessly, but I saw him shiver slightly and knew he would start to feel the cool water in earnest soon. So I gave him a playful peck on the nose. “We can kiss more once we are out of the water, my love.”

“Is that a promise?”

I chuckled, realizing he was really using every advantage he could get.

“Of course it is. For now though, let me wash the dirt and grime from you.” _And the blood_ , I thought to myself, but refrained from mentioning it aloud.

I was thorough but swift, my hands never lingering while they had a task to fulfil. Estel enjoyed our bath despite his shivers. His eyes were closed and his breathing deep and I felt his body relax and become pliant under my hands.

We left the water dripping wet, but both lighter of heart. Once I had helped him to lie down on the blankets I noticed that he had enjoyed our bath much more than I had anticipated. It should not have come as a surprise to see him aroused, because I knew he was desperate for my touch after a long seperation, but I had truly thought he was too exhausted for anything beyond a simple kiss. He was lyin motionless on the blanket, his hooded eyes gazing at me. He was wet all over and the sun made the water on him sparkle as if he were bedecked in diamonds. Droplets of water were running down his sides and thighs, or pooling on his upper lip and belly-button. The sight in itself was tempting, but what caught my attention was his cock, its thickening length proof that my hands on him had been pleasurable. I licked my lips, imagining how it would feel to taste the water on his skin, and heard him moan in response.

“Melle, please. It has been so long,” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal. His right hand closed around his cock, and his eyes lost their focus.

In a heartbeat I was kneeling between his legs, my hands resting on his thighs, uncertain yet where to touch and caress. He let his hand fall to his side instantly, inviting me to take over. There was no move from him except the rise and fall of his chest and the slight tilt of his hips when my hands started to stroke his legs.

“You are right.” He moaned hearing my admission. “The years of your absence have been long for me as well. I have missed your strong hands; hands that can stroke and caress and tickle until I am mad with desire. I have missed your mouth, that can kiss and nib and lick and puff hot breath on my heatened skin. I have missed your skin, your muscle, your body.” Estel’s passion built from nothing but those words, and his hips came of the ground in blatant invitation. I held him down gently, for I was not yet finished speaking my mind to him.

“I have missed your sharp wit, your dry humour, the vertical line that appears on your forehead when you are thinking through a serious matter. I could name all the things I have missed about you, but the list is long and I would rather touch you and bring you pleasure than bore you with ill-conceived poetry.”

“My love,” was all he could say, but I did not need more prompting.

I kissed the inside of his thigh while my hand encircled his cock. I felt him grow even harder in my firm grasp and started to stroke, ever so slowly. I licked the water from his thighs, just like I had imagined, and savoured the fresh taste of soap and Estel’s own flavour. At the same time, I let my fingernails graze lightly over his other thigh. I heard him hiss, his breaths coming in quick succession and his reaction spurred me on to give him pleasure and let him find his release.

Soon, stroking his arousal was not enough for me. Despite his passionate reaction he was too tired and exhausted to join with me. But I could bring him pleasure, take his mind off his predicament for a moment and all he had to do was lie still and let me do the work.

I raised my head, seeking his gaze. “Just feel, do not move,” I instructed and before he had the chance to protest I descended upon his cock. I cannot say that I my actions did nothing to arouse me as well, but I tried to put that in the back of my mind, concentrating on my lover’s pleasure instead.

I listened to the changes in his breathing and let myself be guided by his reactions. I licked and kissed and sucked and swallowed his cock, always slow, always deliberate, because I did not want to rush things. I took his hand in mine, because it was closing and opening, obviously in need of something to hold on to.

Estel was vocal, urging me with his cries of pleasure, but other than that he was still. Normally, when I gave him pleasure this way, he was restless beneath me, his need for more friction making his limbs flail. He would buck his hips and his fingers would tangle in my hair and I would know that he enjoyed our lovemaking.

Not so now. For the most part he was unmoving, tumbling towards his peak with a mind that was half-aroused and half-asleep. But I knew this was what he needed. His body needed to feel my mouth on his him while his mind needed to feel the connection between us. And I was determined to offer him both.

It took a while until he came and for a moment all muscles in his body seemed to tense. He threw his head back and his hand gripped mine tightly. Estel released his breath in short and violent gasps that sounded almost painful and then his body started to shake when his peak rolled over him. I did not let go of him until I had tasted all he had to offer and gave his cock a gentle lick before letting go completely. In my mind I told myself that I would have that again, that there would be lovemaking and kissing and the gentle rocking of bodies a minute before sleep, but the dark gaping hole that was my fear nagged at me. What if fate had other things in mind[?](http://baileymoyes.livejournal.com/121948.html#cutid1)

I stroked his his hip to soothe him as much as me with the gesture and soon heard his breathing even out. When I looked up, he was already fast asleep.

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the song “Face of God” by HIM.




**Translations:**  
eldar - elves


	6. The Wild was Calling

# 6\. The Wild was Calling

Making love to Estel had left me burning for him and for a moment I considered going back into the water in the hopes of driving my lust away. I found it was not necessary, a simple look at Estel’s sleeping form was enough to drive any thoughts of further kisses from my mind. The bandage was thick around his shoulder, showing various red splodges, and his forehead was creased from pain even in sleep. I concentrated on the simple fact that the wound needed to be treated. The bandage had to be changed, which gave me ample opportunity to see whether I had been thorough enough in cleaning the wound yestereve. I left my position between his legs and covered him with a blanket to keep him warm. I remembered that I had promised him more kisses when we had been in the water, so I stole one - nothing more but a fleeting brush of lips - before I set about tending his shoulder.

None of my ministrations interrupted his slumber. He did not stir when I took off the bandage and experimentally probed the wound. Cleaning it had lessened the inflammation of the skin and to my eyes it looked a lot better than last night. However, my knowledge in these things was limited and I was loath to take any chances, so I decided to wash the wound again to make certain it was as clean as possible. There was a low moan from Estel as soon as the wet rag touched the tender area. His eyelids fluttered, but only for a moment. Despite the reaction he did not wake; instead he seemed to be trapped in an unpleasant dream.

He grew ever more restless the longer I took, so I worked as swiftly as possible. Once I had rebandaged the shoulder, I covered his naked body with the coat the old lady had gifted me, feeling that the woolen blanket might be too warm. I soothed the lines of pain from his face by lightly stroking his forehead. I murmured words of love into his ear until his dreams seemed to take him to a lighter place.

It was late afternoon and when it became apparent that Estel would not wake anytime soon, I grudgingly accepted that we would not travel any further today. My desire to get him somewhere safe warred with my desire to let him rest, but in the end the latter won out. There was no use in getting him to a safe place when he hurt so much in the process that his strength would leave him before we reached the end of our journey. I did not kid myself into believing that he was on the mend only because he had looked better in the morning and was ready to joke with me. Even for an elf such a wound would be serious, and Estel was human. But, and that gave me heart, he was headstrong and not unused to pain. As long as his mind was not beaten, his body would keep fighting as well.

I remembered that I had vowed to find some herbs to lessen his pain and I decided I should do just that as long as it was still day. I unloaded the horses and tethered Mouse to a tree not far from the water so that he could drink should he so desire. Eadie was allowed to run free, because I knew she would not stray. I did not want to leave Estel alone – unaware as he was -, but the area appeared safe and I would have to have trust that no harm came to him.

“You take care of him, Eadie,” I told the mare, stroking her nose when she pushed demandingly against my hand. “Estel is asleep, he needs to rest. You will guard him while I am away. I will try to be as quick as possible.” She snorted, consenting to my plans, and slowly trotted over to Estel, coming to stand right next to him. She let her head hang low for a moment as if to check whether the man was truly asleep and then stood erect, her ears moving this direction and that, always alert to any danger that might present itself.

I shook my head, partly amused and partly amazed. “You are unbelievable, Eadie. But I am so glad to have you!” And knowing that Estel was in the best of hands – hooves, I corrected myself – I turned and made my way down the river.

I knew Lord Elrond used many herbs to fight the different kinds of pain. But I was a warrior, not a healer, and the first thing that sprang to my mind was willow bark. Our patrols used it often, because it was easy to come by and prepare. It was also quite effective, if slow-acting. I supposed it was much easier to find a weeping willow next to a river than scout the woods in the search of some obscure plant I could not even identify with certainty.

The spot where we had made camp had been the home of birch trees, but I was sure I would come upon willow trees eventually if I only followed the water. I kept glancing back to where I had left Estel, and sometimes I stood unmoving, listening to my surroundings. However, nothing suggested that I had left him in danger.

As I had predicted I did not need to walk long before I came upon a single weeping willow standing right at the water’s edge. Its branches hung low over the stream and swayed gently in the afternoon breeze. The tree was old, radiating strength, and for a moment I simply leant against its trunk and silently communicated my plea to the tree.

_ Communicated _ probably is too strong a word for what occurs when a wood elf decides to commune with nature. Trees do not understand something as elaborate as words, for their perception is inherently different than ours. They have no eyes to see and no ears to hear, instead they judged the state of their surroundings by the water that touches their roots and the wind that tugs at their leaves. They feel a certain sense of dread when one takes an axe to their branches. They feel joyed when the sky opens after a dry month and it rains. It were those feelings I received from the willow. There was contentment and joy and a feeling of such deep peace that I drowned in the simplicity of the tree’s emotions for a while. In return, I let my own feelings reach out – my desperation at Estel’s injury, my desire to help him – and in a most rudimentary form I  _ asked _ the tree for its consent to take from it what I needed. 

Estel always used to say I was able to charm even an inanimate object, because it came naturally to me to commune with living things. That is not true, and he knows it well, because at the heart of every being not twisted by evil is the desire to help. It was the same with this willow, it understood my plea and would gladly give some of its  bark for my cause. So I took out my knife and carefully cut away as much as I needed. When I was done, I let my hand rest on the wound I had just cut. “Thank you,” I said aloud, knowing the tree would neither hear nor understand my words. But the feeling I sent with it, that it would receive.

There had been no dread, no fear in the tree. The whole area seemed peaceful as if it had never seen orcs, rabid wolves or marauding humans. Still, I decided to take a longer route to return to our camp, circling around it and therefore making sure nothing would disrupt our rest tonight.

When I returned to camp everything was as I had left it. Mouse was still tethered to a tree and did not even lift his head when I came near. Eadie was still standing protectively over Estel’s sleeping body, who was oblivious to the fact that he had spent the last hour only in the company of two horses.

It was only a while later, after I had started a fire, that he woke. In his youth, he had always awoken like a bear after hibernation – a thing I found most amusing at the time. He would groan and shuffle and stretch his limbs. He would scratch his belly and yawn widely. When he had joined the rangers this had been one of his habits that had changed drastically. The life out in the wilds was hard and mind and body needed to be prepared for battle at all times. Nowadays he slept lightly, in times of danger with one hand at his sword, waking suddenly, silenty and instantly alert.

Even wounded and weak he did not fight for wakefulness, but simply opened his eyes from one moment to the next. “Legolas,” was the first thing he said while he simultanously tried to shift his position so that he might see me.

I rushed over to him, trying to stop him from moving too much lest he hurt himself.

“Are you feeling rested, meleth?”

“Much better,” he assured me. “I had a most pleasant dream.” A secretive smile played around his mouth, but before I could ask him what he had dreamt, he lifted the coat slightly and saw his naked body underneath.

“Or maybe it was no dream?” He looked at me quizzically. He paused, obviously waiting for me to deny or confirm his suspicion.

“We bathed...” Estel started once he noticed I would do nothing to help his memory along.

“That we did.” I smiled.

“You were washing me. Your hands on my body were so pleasurable. I desired you so,” he sighed.

I was tempted to let him recall everything we had done, but in the end my desire to reassure him won out. “It was no dream, my hope. We bathed, we kissed, we touched.”

“Good. I like dreaming of you, but the reality is always so much better still. During the last years I have dreamt of you often, but I would rather have you than a dream.”

“You have me, worry not,” I vowed. “We will not part anytime soon, I promise.”

My vow caused him to snuggle deeper into the coat that covered him, as if he meant to make true on that promise here and now. His action caused him to look more closely on what was covering him and he bit his lower lip in thought.

“That is not the coat I was wearing.” He lifted one of the sleeves and gazed thoughtfully at a little hole that had been expertly stitched.

“No, it is not. Your coat was too... well, I burned it.” He gave me a dark look and I shrugged in apology, knowing how much he had liked that moth-ridden thing. “I got this one from an old lady two days north of the town I found you in. I needed something to conceil my features.”

Estel lifted the sleeve to his nose and inhaled deeply. “So you wore it?”

I nodded. “It had obviously been lying in her drawer for a long time, but it still smelled of man and horse and leather and smoke. I have come to like that smell.”

“I would hope so.” Their was a twinkle in Estel’s eye when he said that, but he did not elaborate further. “Looks like a good coat, do you mind if I keep it?”

“Not at all. We will just have to see whether it fits.”

“It will fit.” I drew my brows together at seeing him so convinced and got the distinct impression that there was something he was not telling me, but my question was cut off when he spoke first, effectively changing the subject.

“I had planned on going home and staying there for at least this season. I am tired of politics and wars and the pettiness of men.”

He gripped my arm, indicating that he wanted to sit up. I helped him sit against one of the birch trees, not far from the fire and with a bit of shuffling we managed to dress him in his leggings and a shirt.

“It seems my plans have been crossed,” he took up his own thoughts once again. “We have been going south today, have we not?” He turned his serious gaze on me, the one that I always found so hard to endure.

I had not believed that he had taken any interest in our surroundings this morning, but he proved me wrong.

“Yes, we have.”

I knew what he would say even before he opened his mouth. “You took us further away from Rivendell.” I could have taken an accusation, but the sadness in his voice cut right through my heart. I needed to make him understand my reasons for taking this road.

“Estel, it is a long way to Rivendell and we would have to cross the mountains...” I let my voice trail off. I had acted out of instict and fear, but being forced to explain my actions I found that the truth might be to cruel to speak out loud.

“You do not think I will make it home.” Estel seemed to have no such qualms. I had to avert my eyes, fearing to see my own fears reflected clearly in his gaze. His hand grabbed mine and I took comfort in the strength of his grip. “Look at me,” he pleaded.

“The mountains have become ever more perilous during the last years. And the journey would be too taxing,” I tried to persuade him. “I am no healer, I can do nothing for you. We need to find someone who can help.”

“We could have gone to Mirkwood.” Estel was unwilling to give up just now, clearly hoping to be able to change my mind in this matter.

“It is nearly as far as Rivendell and we would have to cross dangerous woods. You are not up to a fight and you know it.”

Now he averted his eyes. He was never one to readily accept his own shortcomings.

“The road we have been following is in good repair, this area must be populated. I thought we might come upon another town soon. We could seek help there.”

He looked back at me, weariness in his eyes and I remembered his earlier words. Maybe his time amongst men had tired him more than I had anticipated. There was a jaded laugh from him. “A human healer would do nothing more than you have already done. I have seen them give up on soldiers with lesser wounds than this one.”

My mind reeled. I needed to make him see reason. Rivendell and Mirkwood were both too far away, but if Estel did not expect help from a human healer, then where could we turn? What other option was there? Estel needed someone more knowledgable in the healing arts than me and he needed him soon. Also, he was desperate for familiar faces. Family... finally, it dawned on me. He needed his family, and for him that meant he needed the presence of elves.

“We could go to Lothlórien,” I proposed, hoping desperately that the idea might find his approval. “It should take a week at the most to reach the Golden Wood. Lady Galadriel is well versed in the healing arts and I know she would not deny you help. And last I heard, Arwen was there. Maybe she has not gone back to Rivendell yet. We could meet her there.” I paused, letting him mull over what I had just said.

“What say you. Lothlórien?”

Doubt was lingering in his eyes. “I wish to wake in my own bed. I long to hear the costant roar of water that fills the air in Rivendell. There are so many things I miss, the Hall of Fire, Ada’s exasperated look when I come home wounded, my brothers rushing into my room at four in the morning, grabbing my blanket and running away with it. I just want to go home, Lassë. Can you not understand?”

I let my forehead touch his in a show of support. I had always found the gesture to be quite intimate, though it lacked the explicitness of a kiss. “I do. You have been away too long. But if we make for Rivendell now, I fear you will never make it across the Bruinen.” There, I had said it, as clearly as I felt able. “Let us make for Lothlórien and see your health restored. We can go home afterwards. I want to hear you repeat what you just said after you have cursed Elladan into the pits of Mordor for stealing your blanket.”

I felt his opposition drain away and his body melted against mine.

He nodded, an awkward movement since our foreheads were still touching.. “I admit, I would like to see the Golden Wood. And meet the White Lady. And I miss Arwen.”

I kissed him to seal our pact. “It is settled then. By tomorrow morning you should be well rested. We will make good time. It will not be your own, but you will be in a soft bed soon. The lady herself will treat your wounds and Arwen can fuss over you.”

“Arwen never fusses,” he answered indignantly. “You fuss!”

“That I do not!”

“And what was that you did when I got shot on our first patrol?”

“I was taking care of you.” Well, I might have fussed just a little, but I was not going to say _that_ aloud. I crossed my arms across my chest to further my point.

“Mhm.” The sound was dry enough to tell me he was not believing my words.

“Mhm,” My _mhm_ was very decisive and we both had to grin at the impassé. Estel chuckled quietly, but even that slight movement seemed to upset his shoulder and his laughter turned into annoyed groan.

“Do not make me laugh!” he ordered.

That was a request I found hard to fulfill. “Oh, but I love the sound of your laughter. I want to hear it as often as possible. But maybe I can do something against the pain.”

I showed him the bark and started to prepare a tea for him. He did not disrupt my actions, knowing I was at least learned enough to prepare something as simple as willowbark tea. When he drank a mouthful of the hot liquid he made a face.

“Did I use too much? Too little?” I asked alarmed.

“No, it tastes awful, so you used just the right amount.” With determination he drank the rest of the cup, holding it out to me to be refilled with water. He swallowed that as well, washing away the taste of the tea.

The day was waning and once again I tried to coax Estel into eating. The fever had only worsened during the day and even his afternoon nap had not rid him of his state of exhaustion. Still, his lack of appetite started to concern me. When we had bathed and I had seen him fully naked for the first time in years, I had been shocked to see him so... diminished. There was not an ounce of fat on his body, only muscle and sinew and bones that stood out sharply and he could hardly afford to lose anymore weight. He needed the nourishment to heal, but he only eyed what I offered him as if he might be sick any moment only from looking at the food. I could get him to try some of the dried meat. He actually managed to eat quite a bit of that, but he refused the bread and the last few strawberries. I ate them myself before they became inedible.

Seeing that the fever still had a hold on him, I did not want to keep him from his sleep for too long, but I needed some answers as to what had happened in that town. The innkeeper’s tale had not made sense and I hoped Estel’s account of events might sound more logical.

“Love, I know you are tired, but can you tell me what happened in that town? It is still a mystery to me how you came by that wound.” I sat down next to him and let our bodies touch, the closeness comforting us both.

“I can try,” he answered slowly, obviously already thinking where he could best start. “But I fear I cannot solve that mystery for you.”

“Let me hear your story anyway,” I coaxed. He took a sip from one of the water skins and I had to steady his hand, because it was trembling so violently. When he was done, I took the skin out of his hand and put it away. My hand lingered, enfolding his and holding it tightly.

“I left Minas Tirith later than I would have liked and feared I would not make it in time. So I drove Mouse as fast as I could and made my breaks as short as possible to make up for the lost time. When I came upon that town I knew I was not far from our cave and I would have liked to go on and meet with you. But Mouse is not as young as he used to be, and I admit I was tired as well. I decided to spend the night there, thinking that I could call myself lucky if the food was good and the bed without fleas.

“I arrived in the morning and went upstairs to catch up on my sleep. I slept through the day and only left my room in the evening, hoping to get some dinner in the common room. The food was actually quite good and because I had slept the day away I decided to visit with Mouse and then take a walk.”

Up until this point his story corresponded with what the innkeeper had told me. On the other hand, we were entering the interesting part only now. Estel drew a deep breath before continuing.

“There was no outward sign of danger, but I felt that something was wrong. I felt uneasy and got the distinct impression that something was going to happen. And then I saw a little girl walk the streets alone. She was hardly older than ten and I was surprised that her parents would let her out alone after dark. I followed her, wanting to make sure that she arrived home safely, but when she was just about to pass by an alley I saw eyes flash in the darkness. I feared a thief or worse was preying upon unsuspecting passers-by, so I grabbed the girl and told her in no uncertain terms to head home at once and not look back. I guess I must have frightened her pretty badly,” he chuckled.

I remembered the words of the innkeeper. “Oh, you did. The poor thing only stopped running when she reached her home. What were you thinking, Estel?” I said the words lightly, hoping to losen the tension I could feel in his body, but he took my question literally.

“Had I been thinking, I probably would not have gone into that alley,” he said ruefully, unconsciously rolling his shoulder.

“What did you find there?”

He looked at me and his eyes were black in the darkness, reflecting sudden sparks of gold when they caught the firelight. Uncertainty was in his gaze and for a moment there was fear as well. It had been long since I had seen him openly afraid.

“A wolf. There was a wolf in that alley. I have no idea how the animal ended up there or why it was in a human settlement to begin with.” He shook his head. “It was huge, certainly larger than any wolf I had ever seen, and for a moment I feared I had come across an alpha male and the pack was waiting not far away. But apparently it was alone and felt cornered by my sudden appearance. The alley was a dead end, there was nowhere the beast could run. So it attacked, suddenly and violently, not giving me any time to retreat and leave the animal alone. I just had enough time to draw my sword before the wolf was on me. I stabbed it, more than once, but the blood and pain only seemed to enrage it even more. And then its teeth managed to get past my defense. It bit me in the shoulder and refused to let go again.”

The memory turned Estel’s eyes an even darker shade and he closed them for a moment to escape this painful recollection. I had seen wolf bites before, but never so severe, and shuddered at the pain a bite like this must have caused him. Consciously feeling an animal rip your flesh apart must be frightening. To know that you stood alone against such a beast, without the hope of help, must have been terrifying.

“I know I struggled at first. I had lost the grip of my sword when the wolf bit me, but it would have been no help in such small quarters anyway. I still had my dagger, though. I stabbed it once more. I do not even know where the weapon pierced flesh, I simply pushed the blade forward, hoping to hit _something_. I turned the blade in the wound, hoping the pain would cause the wolf to retreat, but it did not let go. It did not let go...” He trailed off, lost in thought.

I embraced him to let him know that all this was in the past. He was alive, the wolf had not killed him. “What happened then?” I whispered in his ear.

“The memory is so blurry. We struggled and everything was slippery from blood. My blood, the wolf’s – it mingled on my hands and I slipped repeatedly while I tried to wrestle the beast from me. It was all for naught until I felt my head lighten and the pain subside. I knew that was a bad sign, if I lost now consciousness the wolf would kill me. I know I struck the beast one last time, but after that I do not remember anything. Only waking up in that dark basement, but even that memory is hazy.”

So Estel must have managed a killing blow, piercing the animal’s jugular, before he had lost consciousness. But what the townspeople had found next to Estel had not been a wolf, it had been a naked man.

“What about the man?”

“What man? There was no one there besides me and that wolf.”

That was impossible. “I do not understand, Estel. The innkeeper told me they found you unconscious. Next to you was a naked man, a dagger through his neck. There was no mention of a wolf. Estel, do you remember anything more?” I implored, desperate for this tale to make some sense.

“No, only what I told you.” He was thinking hard, trying the dark corners of his mind for more information, but nothing more was forthcoming. “A wolf attacked. There was no man, I did not kill anyone.”

How then, had the dead man ended up next to Estel? And what had happened to the wolf?

“This is all wrong,” he concluded, repeating what he had said when the innkeeper had told his version of things. Estel had been barely conscious then, but his reaction had been the same. And now, knowing what had happened to him and at the same time knowing almost nothing, I shared his emotion.

This was all wrong.

 **Notes:  
\- **The chapter title comes from the Nightwish song “Away”.

 **Translations:**  
meleth – love

ada – daddy


	7. If You be the One to Cut Me

# 7\. If You Be The One To Cut Me

The next day was uneventful until we stopped for the night. Estel had woken quite early in the morning, determined to get going and cover as many miles as possible, even though his wound made him blanch from pain every time he made a rash move. I had spent the night dozing, always at least partially alert in case any danger might present itself or Estel’s condition worsened. I knew I could go on with little to no sleep for at least another four or five days, but I hoped we would reach Lothlórien before that.

Again, we rode double on Eadie while Mouse carried all our belongings. I tied the gelding’s reins to my saddle in order to have both hands free to encircle Estel. We did not speak much and the silence between us was heavy. On a few occasions I tried to draw Estel into a conversation, but he was monosyllabic. I adjusted, telling tales and news of Mirkwood instead, but even those did not draw him out of his listless mood. His mind was elsewhere and whatever I tried, I was powerless to lift his spirits.

I was worried for him, now more than ever. I had checked the wound in the morning and had found it to be healing. The inflammation was all but gone and there were no red spots on the bandage, which indicated that the bleeding had stopped. Overall it still looked grim, but much better than in the night when I had found him. Estel agreed, turning his head awkwardly to see the wound more clearly. He proposed I should stitch it in the evening and even though I was not looking forward to that I knew it was a step in the right direction. It indicated that the flesh was on the mend.

At the same time I had to come to terms with the fact that the rest of his body did not show any improvement at all. The fever had settled in his body and nothing I did would lower it. It was not high enough to be life-threatening, but it sapped Estel’s strength, constantly leaving him exhausted and tired. Together with the severe pain and the fact that he had not eaten anything substantial for at least a week, I feared for his will to fight.

Those were not the only thoughts occupying my mind, though. I was trying to make sense of what Estel had told me. The summer had been mild and the land was full of game, so it was unlikely that a wolf would purposefully make its way into a human settlement. What had the animal hoped to find there? The dead man the innkeeper had mentioned would have been the more plausible story – up to a certain point. For a man could not have caused the bite wound from which Estel was now suffering.

Why did the stories not match up? Where was the missing piece? I remembered the innkeeper calling the dead man a loner and alchemist, but my mind refused to go where this piece of information might lead me. If that man had played with powers much too big for him, who could tell what he might have conjured up?

I did not come up with a solution. Our way was long and I had ample time to let my mind wander and present ideas to me, but none made any sense. Frustrated, I decided that it mattered not how exactly Estel had come by his injury. I had to get him to Lothlórien, all other thoughts paled in comparison to that one goal.

We rode steadily south and managed to cover many miles until Estel broke his silence to point out a good resting spot to me. He had dozed frequently during the day, but when I helped him down from the horse I saw that the shadows under his eyes had become even more pronounced during our ride. His lips were dry and chapped against mine when I blew a kiss on them and I felt his clammy cheek, noticing how he leant his head into the touch. I wondered what else I could do to help his body heal, but this wound far surpassed my modest knowledge in the arts of healing.

My fear must have shown, because Estel took my hand from his cheek, encircling it and holding it in his lap.

“Do not worry so. You make me worry,” he said in a tired voice that indicated he would rather be left alone. His eyes were serious and bright from fever.

“I am sorry.” I squeezed his hand. “Your fever worries me, your lack of appetite, your dark dreams, the shadows under your eyes, your exhaustion.” The words rushed out in a hurry and I regretted them as soon as I said them. Could I not be strong for me? Could I not at least keep my doubts to myself?

“I did not mean to say that.” My hand covered my mouth in shame.

“I know you were thinking it, whether you said it out loud or not.” He let his head fall back, letting it rest against a tree. He closed his eyes and I feared he might fall asleep any moment. “This is a serious wound, it will need time to heal. A lot of time.” He inhaled deeply, but that seemed to disagree with his shoulder. Estel winced and coughed, unconsciously tightening his grip on my hand.

“But there should be improvement...”

“There is,” he reassured me, blinking his eyes tiredly and then gazing at me. “I guess I feel better than I look.” He grinned, but it never reached his eyes. “All will be well, I promise you.”

“Is that really a promise you can make?” I found his words to be lacking their usual conviction.

“I will try my best,” he gave in. He lifted my hand to his mouth to kiss my fingertips and silence stretched between us.

“You should start stitching the wound as long as there is still some light left.”

I nodded, trying to ignore my loud heartbeat, and went to gather what I would need for that endeavour. I had stitched wounds before, quite a few actually, but found it to be quite taxing. If you wanted the wounded to have the best chance of healing, you had to be slow and careful, making the stitches even and parallel. But in that case the patient would hurt even longer. It was a hurt that wormed itself into your heart, sapping your spirit and making you tremble from exertion. I knew this all too well, I had been on the receiving end more times than I cared to remember.

Estel had obediently drunken from the bottle containing the willowbark tea numerous times during the day and I hoped it would dull the sharp pain of the needle finding its way through skin. I dug said needle out of Estel’s pack, wondering how often he had used it during his time abroad, and then heated it in the fire to clean it. I sought a thread, a piece of cloth and some water and when everything was gathered around us there I realized I could not delay the inevitable any longer.

I helped Estel shrug out of his shirt and looked closely at the wound, trying to decide how best to start. Some areas would heal on their own, others needed to be stitched and the worst part of the wound, not far from his throat, was absolutely hopeless. Attempting to stitch it would be fruitless as there was nothing but raw flesh there. His skin, his beautiful tanned skin with the almost invisible freckles was all but gone. I swallowed hard, bile rising in my throat when the image of Estel’s ripped skin between a dead wolf’s teeth came unbidden to my mind.

No use thinking about that now. “Turn around, I will start on your back”. It looked less gruesome there and I deemed it a good place to build up my courage. Estel turned around, sitting almost cross-legged, and braced himself against the tree.

“Ready?”

“Just be sure to make the stitches even. I do not want to appall my lover with a ragged scar,” he quipped, but I could hear just a tiny bit of uncertainty in his voice.

“Worry not,” I answered. “I have it on good authority that your lover always finds you beautiful.” I brushed his hair to the side and kissed his neck gently, feeling him shudder against my mouth.

At first there was no reaction from him when the needle pierced his flesh. He sat in stoic silence bearing my excruciatingly slow progress on his back. But when I was done and helped him to turn around, I felt him shiver in my grip, his skin slick with sweat.

“Do you need a break?” From the look of him I would have preferred to not work on his front at all.

“No,” he answered between clenched teeth, his eyes closed wearily. “Has to be done. The sooner you start the sooner it will be over.”

But his strength was spent. With each passing minute I felt the tension in his body built. First, it was only a light stiffening of his limbs. Then, it was the quickening of his breath, coming in short painful gasps that could not provide him with enough air. Fearing he would pass out from lack of air, I stopped to give him a short respite, but his command came sharp and unforgiving.

“Go on, do not stop now.” His voice sounded alien and far-away, so unlike his usual gentle tone. I looked up in alarm only to find his face contorted in either pain or fury. I hurried to finish what I had begun, not sure whether I would be able to repeat the process if I backed out now. He was right, this had to be done – but I just wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

He felt like a drawn bow under my touch, as if he might snap any moment, the sinew hurting whatever was in the vicinity. I dabbed some blood off his shoulder and the muscle underneath was as hard and unyielding as stone. It seemed some turmoil was taking place in Estel’s body. It was my fault that I attributed it to nothing more but his pain. The sun had disappeared and I could see a full moon slowly rise over the treetops, but even that did not tell me how long I had worked on him.

I all but threw needle and thread away from me, soothing the wound with a solution I had prepared beforehand. I had hoped the cool fluid would ease Estel’s discomfort, but he seemed too wrapped up in his pain to let my gesture relax him.

“Shh, calm down. I am finished. Try to sleep, I am sure the pain will pass.” I kissed his forehead, which was hot and slick from sweat under my lips. I let my mouth wander over his face, kissing his cheek and finally his mouth. He was breathing harshly, not returning the kiss. He turned his head away suddenly, as if he was unable to endure my affection any longer.

“Leave,” he panted, his voice urgent. “Please, only for a moment.” He would not look at me when he said this, but his body was still tense. I was reminded of a predator shortly before it pounced on its prey, but pushed the thought away. This was Estel and he was in pain, nothing more. Still, there was barrier between us suddenly and I was uncertain where it had come from or what I could do to overcome it.

My first instinct was to be near him. I wanted to touch and embrace him, offering comfort with these gestures, but I feared my caresses would not be received favourably at the moment. In my confusion, I attributed his emotional retreat to the fact that he wanted to shield his weakness from me. That he would fall into old habits with me was a realization that stung, for I had believed he trusted me more than this. But there was nothing to be done about it now. In any case, he was not up to an in-depth discussion.

I left him to pack away what I had used to tend his wound. Deliberately, I kept my back to him in order to give him privacy. I did not like him pulling away from me, but if that was what he needed I would give him space to compose himself. I expected he would call out to me any moment, to apologize for pushing me away, but the minutes of his silence became longer and longer. I felt his stare burn my back and the tickle running down my spine urged me to turn around and look at him. I withstood the need; and that was my mistake.

I crouched not far from the fire, Estel’s healing supplies and his pack next to me, and was in the process of packing away his things when the attack came. I had neither heard not felt any movement behind me, but suddenly something was on me, overbalancing me until I ended up flat on the ground. The surprise of the attack left space only for one thought – Estel’s safety, because I knew he was in no condition to fight whoever had entered out camp.

“Estel!” I called in warning, hoping to get an answer from him. At the same time, I struggled against the attacker, hoping to throw him off.

“Hold still!” It was not the command itself that made me freeze, it was the voice that had spoken it. It was hardly more than a vicious growl, deep and throaty and devoid of any emotion. It sounded heartless and cruel, but still I would have recognized its timbre anywhere. It was Estel who had spoken the words and that meant it was Estel holding me down so forcefully.

My body was pressed painfully into the hard ground and the pressure applied to my back caused me to wheeze helplessly. It was difficult to breathe and even more difficult to speak. “Estel,” I panted, “let me up, I cannot breathe!” I gasped, hoping to get some air, but my lungs refused to fill.

“I said, hold still!” I had never heard him so angry, had never heard such cold malice in his voice. His body was covering mine wholly and his hands grabbed my arms painfully. His fingers closed around my skin and I knew instantly his grip would leave bruises. He must have noticed my discomfort, but he did not lessen his hold. Why not? Why was he not letting me go?

He shifted and I used his momentary lapse in concentration to renew my struggle, bucking under him in an attempt to throw him off. My confusion and despair only grew when I noticed that he did not budge. Whatever I tried, I was unable to free myself. I had always been the stronger of the two of us, despite my slender built. In a fight like this I would always have been able to overpower him, but now his strength seemed to have grown tenfold.

I tried yet again and put all my strength into the attempt, but I could not free myself. I was almost ready to give up and surrender to his mercy, even now trusting him enough that he would not hurt me. But then his hand snaked under my clothing and started to grope artlessly at my flesh.

“I’ll take what’s mine,” he growled right next to my ear and then his tongue licked wetly along my earlobe in a monstrous imitation of his usual caress. “Try to stop me and you will regret it.” There was a laugh from him, alien and cold, and the sound alone drove tears to my eyes.

What was this evil? What was happening?

I had no time to think further, for his fingers digged painfully into my side while he ground down on me, his hard cock pressing against my backside. Once again I intensified my struggle, realizing too late that he would take me against my will if I could not gain the upper hand. It was no use; he easily overpowered me and never even stopped to rub against me. I felt him shift and tug at his clothing, freeing his cock. He dragged the hard shaft against my cloth-covered back and groaned like an animal in heat.

His hot breath against my neck came in quick puffs, setting my own body aflame with something far different than passion. My body thrummed with pure adrenaline. Fear and desperation were the only emotions driving me in that moment. The sharp and painful knowledge that something was about to happen that I could not stop, could not escape, was driving tears of frustration to my eyes. It was followed by the sudden realization that the pain would be caused by the one I loved more than life itself. I wept, letting the tears run down my cheeks unchecked, for there was nothing else I could do. Estel noticed, lapping at one of the teardrops with his tongue. He swallowed and gave a barbaric growl at the taste. I shuddered, horrified.

He yanked down my leggins and I heard the cloth rip. I had never been overly modest, but now I felt naked, exposed and terribly vulnerable. I desperately wanted to cover my nakedness and grabbed for the hem of my leggins, wanting to draw them up, but Estel only laughed at my useless action. He patted my cheeks, giving them a slap and I was pushed forward from the force. The skin smarted and I closed my eyes tightly, trying to will the pain and humiliation away.

_Why?_

His uncaring fingers parted my cheeks and I prepared for the intrusion of a finger, prepared for the sting and the pain. But he did not bother, and instead guided his cock into me with one powerful shove, stretching me, hurting me, splitting me in two in a matter of moments. In all the years of my life I had never known such pain. I felt powerless in its face, knowing no way to escape it, make it bearable. So I screamed. Screamed and panted and screamed until all my breath was spent and all I could do was whimper in submission.

_Why?_

He grunted, I heard the sound loud and clear, and then he started to move, frantically, quickly. He pushed into me like one driven by pure madness. This was what animals did, rutting and nothing more. I was just the sheath, and he felt like a dagger in me. I was aflame with pain that would not subside. His movements offered no respite, but hurt all the same places over and over again. And the pain intensified and multiplied with each push of his cock, leaving me spent and desperate on the ground.

_Why?_

I felt something tear in me and gave a cry, but Estel only pushed down my head further until grass and dirt entered my mouth and I had to choke. I knew he had harmed me, felt the blood trickle down. It slickened my passage, which only quickened his strokes. He groaned above me and gripped me tighter, his mouth closing on my shoulderblade, biting down hard. But the sting was insubstantial, nothing compared to the pain his cock caused, which threatened to shatter my mind.

_Why?_

Something broke inside of me, something vital. And the pain reached from my inner passage upwards, snaking its way along my spine and right into my heart. It grabbed and covered it, making its beat stagger. I gasped when I noticed the changed rhythm of my heartbeat, fearing my end was near. I remembered that an elf would die from being violated like this. Our bodies are strong, but the Valar seemed fit to make our minds fragile. I knew my body would heal, but an elven mind cannot take such abuse and I feared my sanity would flee. I tried to hold on to my life, my heart, my memories. I longed for a lifeline to lead me back to myself, but nothing would make my heart resume its normal beat.

 _Why? Why?_ my mind asked, but no one answered.

Everything turned mute suddenly. The world lost its colour, the forest around us was nothing more than various shades of grey, indistinct and blurred. The sounds Estel made above me were silenced, his painful movements within me unimportant. I felt detached from what was happening around me. There was the pain, I felt the ebb and flow of it, but it did not reach my mind.

I do not know how long this torture went on, how long Estel pushed into me, used my body as a means to slate his lust. I was just lying there motionless. My struggles had stopped long ago. My surrender gave Estel the freedom to use both his hands to violate me. His brutal touch marked my skin, bruised my back, my arms, my shoulders. And I could do nothing to hinder him, because all my strength and purpose was focused on keeping my heart alive. It was beating still, a tired _thump-thump_ that sounded enormously loud in my ears, but I heard how it slowed and staggered repeatedly, in times with Estel’s powerful pushes into my body.

I did not notice the point at which Estel spent himself inside me, his seed mixing with my blood and his body growing still above me. I noticed neither his harsh breathing nor the sudden shudder that went through his body.

The only thing I became aware of between two of my slow heartbeats was a sound. It was low and desperate, coming from somewhere outside me. It did not concern me, nothing but my still beating heart concerned me, but still I listened. I concentrated all my being, drew up my last strength to put a name to the curious sound I heard. And finally, I understood. It was a sob. And another, and another. A whole current of sobs, all cried wetly into my ear.

“Legolas”, someone said and I felt I should react to the name, but my body would not follow my orders.

“Sorry, so sorry.” There was another tidal wave of cries and the body above me shook from the sobs wracking it. I felt naked skin touching mine, felt the wetness of tears, blood and things I cared not name at the moment. “Sorry,” the voice keened and something in me was touched by the emotion evident in that one word.

“Legolas, please!” It sounded plaintive. “Do not leave me!” I was held tight. The embrace was weak, but the emotion strong and I felt new energy surge through my body, rekindling my will to live.

There was silence for a long time, as if the person had given up calling out. But after a while there was a last attempt. “Lassë, don’t go.” It was not so much a command as a desperate outcry and I knew at once that I should do something. Move, perhaps.

I only noticed that my eyes had been closed when I opened them. I was on the ground, dirt was in my mouth and my eyes felt red and swollen.

“Lassë”, someone called and the memory of what had happened came back at once, in a sudden painful rush that left me breathless. I knew Estel had attacked me, had violated me, had taken from me what should have been given freely and with love. He had broken my heart, I had heart it shatter. But he had restarted it as well, for I could hear its beat. It may have been weary, but it was there, the even rhythm soothing me. With the memory came the realization that I could not leave him. I could not abandon him, regardless of what had happened.

I moved quickly and sat up, stubbornly ignoring the pain in my body. I embraced Estel, who was crying uncontrollibly. There was no resistance from him; he let himself be moved as if that other man, the one who had held me down mercilessly, had never been. He clung to me, his arms encircling me with total disregard to his injury, and his lips sought my pulse point.

“You live, you came back.” I could hardly make out the words between sobs and shaky breaths, but I nodded, making soothing noises and rubbing my hand in circles on his back. I felt the pain in my body, felt the trickle of blood at my backside, but there would be time to think about that later.

“I did not...,” he never finished and instead started again. “I did not mean...” Again he let the sentence hang. “I do not know... I was...” Silence. And then there was surprise and fear in his voice. “Where was I?”

“Shh, not now.” It was too raw still. I could understand his need to explain himself, to make sense of things. But I simply ... could not. I could embrace him, could endure his lips on my throat and his clinging arms, but I could not speak of this. Not so soon, maybe never.

“Sleep.” I repeated that one word again and again, rocking our bodies slowly. Maybe it was his exhaustion, his despair and his pain that pushed him into unconsciousness. Or maybe it was my continuous incantation. It did not matter. What mattered was that we were both here. Alive, somehow.

I laid him down on the bedroll, covering him with both our blankets, and watched him sleep. There was a vertical line on his forehead and his brows were drawn together as if in deep thought. I tried to smooth the frown away, but it kept reappearing. His hand groped in the darkness. I feared the strength of that hand for a moment, but then I forced myself to take it and hold it within my own.

I sat like that for an eternity. I watched the well-known features of his face, how he breathed in and out, how he sighed in his sleep. And suddenly, I felt my own tears come. I cried silently for fear of waking him. I cried for what we had lost tonight, afraid that maybe it could not be retrieved. I cried over what the future might bring and I cried over the hurts in my body.

I cried all the tears I held in my body. For I knew, as soon as Estel woke the next morning he would need my forgiveness, my love, my guidance. And I would withhold none.

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the Nightwish song “Ghost Love Score”.





	8. My Capacity to Love

# 8\. My Capacity to Love

Sometime in the late hours of the night, when all my tears were spent and I sat still as a statue next to Estel’s sleeping form, I became aware of the pains in my body. I was not bleeding anymore, but I was dirty and my clothes were ripped. I could see bruises form on my arms and wondered what the rest of my skin might look like. I felt the sudden urge to wash away the memory of those last hours, as if water alone had the power to undo what had happened to me. The thought was irrational, but I got up nonetheless in pursuit of water to clean myself and change my clothes.

Tending to my own hurts disturbed me, because looking at the bruises and the dried blood made me think of who had hurt me so. My body ached when I knelt to splash water onto my skin, rubbing furiously in the vain hope that the forming bruises would vanish if I only rubbed long enough. No such thing happened, of course, instead the sight of my own maltreated body – a testament to Estel’s attack – caused my stomach to rebel. I swallowed convulsively, but it helped not. I brought up what little I had eaten the previous day and another wave of humiliation hit me upon realizing that my body would betray me like this.

I shivered, though the night was warm, and tried to understand what had happened between Estel and I, but it was useless. I knew him and to this night would have sworn he was not capable of such a vile deed. He had a caring and passionate soul and an inborn need to shelter and protect those around him. How then could he violate me so, betraying our love only to sate his base needs? He had been desperate and inconsolable afterwards. However, the fact remained that he had hurt me worse than I had ever been hurt in my long life.

These thoughts refused to let go of me and when I came back to camp, resuming my spot near Estel’s body, I was sure I would find no sleep tonight. However, as it turned out I must have been too emotionally exhausted to stay awake and I soon fell into a deep sleep that was blessedly dreamless.

I woke in the morning to the curious sensation of fingers trailing up and down my left forearm. My first reaction was panic and caution, but I willed both away. I could not give into them else I should spend the rest of my days in fear of being touched.

Instead, I sat motionless and focused my eyes until I could see what caused the feeling. It was Estel running his forefinger along the inside of my arm. He barely touched me, his caress featherlight and careful. He widened his strokes and I noticed his finger was following the outline of a bruise; one that he had placed there the night before. The longer he kept touching me like this, the more the pain in my body disappeared.

At first, I thought I felt comforted because of his obvious concern for me; that my body was reacting to the love he sent with the stroke of his fingers. Therefore it took precious minutes until I realized what he was really doing. There had been only one other time when he had used his healing hands on me. It had been many years ago and his gift had not come as readily to him then as it did nowadays. His clumsy attempt to lure my mind from where it had been wandering so close to the Halls was a faint memory, but I still recognized he was using the same power now. Warmth spread from his fingers into my arm and a feeling of such deep contentment came over me that I felt as if he was wrapping me securly in his love, where no hurt or pain or fear could reach me.

It took an immense effort to break free from such a peaceful frame of mind, but it was a necessity – for his sake. I sat up straighter and looked at him worriedly. My movement alerted him to the fact that I was awake and he drew back his hand at once, looking away as if he had no right to touch me in the first place.

“You should not have attempted that. I know it costs you a lot of strength and you have none to spare at the moment.”

He was still not looking at me, his eyes focused on his hands instead, now lying useless in his lap. “You hurt because of me.”

“It is just a bruise, it will fade.” We both knew it was not as easy as that, but I felt unable to address what else was hurting me.

“But the other hurt will not fade as easily.” I understood suddenly that he meant a hurt paining both of us. He was speaking of my heart, our love, the trust between us, the memories that now felt tainted. And I truly did not know whether this hurt would ever fade. Could ever fade.

“I do not know, but there is always hope.”

There was a bitter laugh from him. He hated those plays on his name, but I had only said what my soul had bid me. “You would do better without Hope now.”

“Never!” The conviction in my voice was heartfelt, but I found I could not follow it through with action. I felt unable to kiss him, take his hand or comfort him with my touch and so we sat apart from each other rather awkwardly, each of us keeping his distance. Panic took hold of me again as soon as I tried to lean forward to brush my lips against his. Estel saw the interrupted movement, realized it for what it was and a look of such sadness came over his face that I could hardly bear it.

“There are no words to describe how sorry I am. I wish you had never found me, I wish I had died that night. If I had, this would never have happened.”

“Do not wish for your own death, Estel. I could not bear it.” I forced myself to take his hand. “Nothing could hurt me as much as finding you dead.” Even the pain he had dealt me last night paled against the hurt his death would cause me.

I saw in his eyes the moment he understood my meaning. “Nothing,” I reiterated.

“I do not deserve you.” I saw his eyes become liquid, but he never let the tears fall. I had never seen his grey eyes so unusually light, almost devoid of colour as if it had been washed away during the night. It made his gaze seem cold, even though the rest of his face showed his distress clearly.

He rallied visibly only a moment later and took a deep breath. “I should have a look at those... bruises.” There was a little pause as if he had to think hard what word to use. He was not in his usual assertive healer-mode, bossing me around and generally taking charge. Instead, he was asking as if he might not be sure how his request might be received.

I knew not whether I was ready to feel his hands on me so intimately, but there was no need to find out now. “Do not worry, I took care of them last night. As I said, they will heal.”

He did not push further, a thing most unusual for him, especially when the health of a loved one was at stake.

For a moment, none of us knew quite how to proceed and the silence began to stretch between us in an uncomfortable manner. There was one question I needed to ask and my heart hammered in my chest when I finally found the courage to speak.

“Why, Estel?” My voice was small for I knew everything depended on Estel’s answer.

He must have expected the question, but he had no easy answer. He gazed thoughtfully at me, his eyes back to their usual comforting grey. Maybe it had only been the morning light a moment ago, playing tricks on my troubled mind. He bared his soul to me, so that I might see the sincerity and love in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came. Instead, he shook his head.

“I was overcome. I tried to fight it, but my resolve was weakened. And I know not whether this is a fight I could ever win.”

I frowned, not understanding what he was trying to tell me. “Overcome? By what?”

He looked at me long and hard, his eyes were still fever-bright but his gaze held a sudden sharpness that was at odds with his weakened state. I noticed the dark shadows under his eyes, the hard line that had appeared around his mouth, his haggard look, the sunken cheeks. I tried to remember the vibrant young man he had been when we had first met, or the seasoned soldier he had become later on. However, at the moment all I could see was a man ready to face death. I could not say why I had not noticed it earlier. Maybe I had been simply too afraid to face that possibility. I had seen mortals look like this, usually hours before they passed from this world – weary, tired and ... waiting.

Estel chose the moment of my frightening insight to answer my initial question. “How I wish I knew.” His shoulders dropped and the weariness reflected in his face was proof enough of how heartfelt his wish was. “It has not revealed itself to me, but it feels evil, cold and dark.”

“You feel it? Where? How?” I was unable to make sense of what Estel was telling me.

“In my mind, my dreams. Lately even when I am awake. This darkness is everwhere and it is growing worse. I know I passed out once the wolf had bitten me, but I remember coming awake at some point and seeing people around me. They were crowding me, trying to touch me. I think they were trying to get me back to the inn, but back then I felt cornered and the need to free myself of their presence came over me. I lashed out at them and suddenly the smell of blood was in my nose, so tempting and sweet. It drove me wild and hate and bloodlust flooded me. And then there was darkness.”

I remembered what the innkeeper had told me, that Estel had attacked the kitchen boy when he had woken in the inn, only letting go when he had been knocked out.

“When I woke I found myself in that dark and dank basement, and when the pain allowed me a moment of clear thought I remembered the smell of blood and how new and enticing and utterly frightening it had been. I called for you, because you were always able to make sense of things, but after a while darkness grabbed me again and I began to fear that you would never come for me or refuse me once you had seen what had become of me.”

“But I heard you and I came. And I would never turn my back on you. You know that, do you?”

He did not answer, but took up the thread of his explanation without giving me the reassurance that he trusted in me.

“It haunts me, whatever this evil is. I feel such hate, such coldness in me. It festers in me like some unknown illness and I know of no way to cure myself of it. Sometimes it grows even worse and only emptiness fills the space where once emotions, love and fond memories were. I know my family and I know you; I see you before my mind’s eye, but there are moments when I cannot recall the feeling that should go with your face. I try to feel the love for you that always kept me warm and I cannot. It drives me mad. And as much as I try to fight against it, the stronger this evil seems to grow in me. I dream of bloodshed, of ripping flesh, of death all around me and I enjoy it.”

When I did not reply right away, needing a moment to stomach what he had told me, he repeated. “I enjoy it. How can I enjoy something like that? I do not even recognize myself anymore.” Anger flashed in his eyes, but then he reigned himself in, breathing deeply until the tension left his body.

“What happened to you, meleth?”

“I do not know,” he answered my rhetorical question, “but it is something that cannot be remedied with bandages or stitches or poultices.”

“It started with the bite, so this must be the source.” I thought for a moment. “Maybe poison? Dark magic?” Something else suddenly occured to me: “Did someone find out your true identity?”

He clearly avoided my eyes when I asked that question. “Estel! O Valar...”

“No, do not worry. No one in either Rohan or Gondor ever learned my true identity. I have become quite good at being someone else.”

“Then this is all a coincidence?” I refused to believe that fate had seen fit to play such a cruel game with us. Even if Estel had made enemies in Gondor, why would they choose to attack him once he had left Minas Tirith? It did not make any sense. But having to accept that this was a simple matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time was just as hard. Had he not taken that walk, had he not stayed in that town – maybe none of this may ever have happened.

I felt as powerless as Estel in the face of these happenings. I wished to keep him safe and help him heal, but I realized I had already done all I could. “I am glad we decided to head for Lothlórien. Maybe the Lady Galadriel will know what evil has befallen you.”

There was another thought running through my mind, which I did not utter, but Estel had always been good at guessing my thoughts. “I should have told you sooner,” he said. “Maybe yesterday would not have happened. I tried to stay strong, but the pain got the better of me and I let my defences down. It was frightening, all that anger and violence. It took me and swept me away. I could not help it.” He shuddered at the memory. We both hurt because of what had happened last night and for a strange reason that thought comforted me. In some twisted way, we had both been victims yesterday. We had both been powerless to fight off our attacker.

I knew his strength was fading fast and realized that Lothlórien might be his last chance. If the lady had no way of restoring his health, I feared what else might befall him. Would his wound prove too much for him to endure? Would he die? Or would he succumb to the darkness that was trying to swallow him? What would become of him then? I was unable to bring that thought to an end.

“You will defeat this and you will not be alone. I will be by your side, as I always have been.” I felt I needed to prove to him that my offer was sincere, so I kissed him squarely on the lips. It took effort to press me lips against his, because my mind wanted to panic at feeling Estel so near. I forced my fear to the back of my mind and acted quickly, brushing our lips together as tenderly as I felt able. Estel threw himself into the kiss with desperation, and his need to make it perfect and gentle was palpable. His attempt to do right by me quietened my racing heart. Hope grew in me that maybe my own hurts could be healed. Maybe all I needed was a gentle lover and time.

Our kiss did not last long for we were both not yet ready for more than a fleeting touch, but it was a start and that realization lightened my heart a bit.

“Rest a bit more while I saddle the horses and pack up. We need to cross many miles today.”

It took longer than usual to break camp since my bones felt stiff and bruised. When the horses were finally ready and I turned around to help Estel mount I saw that he had nodded off again. He seemed to need more sleep each day. If only the rest would help restore his strength – but it seemed the opposite was the case and he was growing weaker by the hour. I woke him gently, helping him to stand.

“Can you ride alone today?” I had dreaded asking the question, but I was unable to avoid it. “Eadie’s gait is smooth, you should not have a problem.”

He stuttered an answer, something including _yes_ , _sorry_ and _never_. He thought I feared to be in close proximity to him and to some extent he was probably right. However, that was not the main reason why I preferred to walk today.

“You misunderstand me. I would like to hold you.” At least I thought we would both benefit from it in some way. “But I simply cannot sit a horse today.” I blushed fiercely and went pale a moment later when I noticed that my words had done nothing to calm Estel. He looked at me in horror and then made to dismount again, mumbling something about all this being his fault.

I reached up and laid my hand on his thigh, effectively keeping him on the horse. “Ssh, do not think about that now. There will be time for that later. My hurts will heal on their own, but I fear yours will not. We need to get going.”

He seemed ready to object, but thought better of it. “If that is your wish, I will comply.”

“Good,” I replied, glad that this would not turn into a lengthy discussion. I kept my hand on his thigh, because it felt like the right thing to do and without another word we started to move out.

Walking helped me take my mind off recent events. For the first few hours, I mulled over what I had learned and what it could mean. However, I was unable to make sense of what Estel had told me and in return failed to understand what had truly happened to him. In my mind, I repeated everything I had heard from Estel and the innkeeper, but still gaps remained in the tale that I was unable to fill. I tried to remember whether I had heard talk of anything similar happen, tried to remember whether I had read anything in our or Lord Elrond’s library about such a strange tale, but my mind refused to come up with anything helpful. At some point, I purposefully cleared my mind of all these considerations, hoping to find a fresh insight by occupying my mind with simpler thoughts. I had learned long ago that the solution to a problem tended to come to you on its own in the moment you had given up finding it.

By midday the constant movement had lulled my mind and I thought of nothing but keeping our southward course. From time to time I glanced backwards to make sure Estel could still hold out. It seemed that I had worried too much during the past days and the sudden rest I allowed my mind did me the world of good. When we made camp in the late afternoon I felt sore and exhausted from walking the whole day. My mind was refreshed, however, renewing my hope that this might give me a new insight into our predicament.

“I did not look at the wound in the morning. I better do that now,” I told Estel when I helped him off the horse. He leaned heavily on me, his breath burning hot on my neck. Even the few steps from the horse to his resting spot tired him, and I wondered where the strength to attack me yesterday had come from. He could barely stand upright, let alone hold me down against my will. _Magic_ , my mind whispered to me, but I swept the thought away, frightened by what it could mean.

“There is no need,” Estel forced out and then sat silently, closing his eyes in exhaustion. “You should take care of yourself first, you must still hurt.” He opened his eyes and looked at me with such shame in his eyes that I fell down on my knees next to him.

“Meleth, I will not pretend that you did not hurt me yesterday – in body and in mind. And I will not pretend that I can overcome this hurt instantly by simply wishing it to be so. I do not know what it will take to ease my mind. But I am determined to find out, with you by my side. I need you to find the right path with me. I want to enjoy your kiss, your touch, your body aligning with mine. Together we will find a way, I am certain of it. But you have to get better first. Please Estel, promise me that you do not dwell on yesterday for the moment. Concentrate on your own hurt. I want you to fight and get better. Everything else will come on its own; I know it will.”

He looked at me silently before his gaze grew distant and I remembered what he had told me. Was the darkness luring him again? Was he, in this very moment, trying to remember why and how he loved me? Estel shook his head and when his eyes focused on me again they held the wonder I had seen so often in them when we had first fallen in love.

“I will do as you ask,” he vowed. “I do want to find that path with you. There is nothing I have ever wanted as much as seeing that shadow disappear from your eyes. And if that means that I have to get better first, I will do that as well.”

Estel attempted to shrug out of his shirt and I rushed to his aid, stealing a quick embrace once we had accomplished the feat of undressing him. He leant into me and his right arm came around to hold me. I was surprised that I did not feel constricted, instead I felt safe in his embrace.

“This feels good,” I told him, because I wanted him to know that I enjoyed the closeness.

“Mhmm,” was his only answer and he breathed deeply, his body relaxing against mine. His head rested on my shoulder and I felt him nib lightly at the sensitive skin of my throat. The kiss was so shy, so featherlight, that I felt goosebumps appear on my skin. Estel did not repeat the caress, holding himself still. We stayed like this for many heartbeats, letting our bodies speak what we could not say out loud at the moment.

After a while I feared that Estel had fallen asleep in my arms. His arm was still encircling me, but his body was slack and his breathing even. I hated to wake him for what was to come.

“Estel, are you awake?” I whispered.

His head moved against my shoulder, something that could be construed as a nod.

“I still have to look at your wound, will you let me?”

There was another silent nod, but then his body came alive and he disentangled himself from the embrace with a sigh.

“Thank you,” he said, his pupils huge.

“Thank you,” I repeated his words, looking at him intently. He did not shy away from my gaze this time, but returned the look. We had understood each other, both enjoying the fact that we could still take comfort from the other – even after what had happened last night.

“Your fever is rising again.” I had noticed that fact as soon as he had leant against me. The fever ebbed and swelled, but it never truly disappeared and I knew the constant burning would keep Estel from regaining his strength.

“I know. It is not so bad.”

“And you have pulled some stitches,” I added once I had pulled the bandage off his shoulder. That had most probably happened yesterday evening, but there was no reason to say that aloud. He had not bled through the bandage, but the torn stitches had caused a slow trickle of blood, its colour a stark red on Estel’s pale chest. “I should have taken care of that in the morning.”

He turned his head, hoping to get a good look of the wound. “It is hardly bleeding. It actually looks quite good.” He seemed genuinly surprised.

“How does it feel?” I asked hopefully.

“The same,” he admitted. “Like someone ripped my shoulder to pieces.” He raised an eyebrow and a spark of irony lightened his eyes. My heart stopped for a beat. I was glad to see good humour return to him, even if it was as black as the pits of Mordor.

The little joke was an attempt to divert my attention, but I would have none of it. “You told me yesterday that you felt better than you looked. You lied.” It was statement, not a question.

“You looked so worried,” Estel answered. “Forgive me.”

I was unsurprised that he had lied for my sake, knowing that it was a bad habit of his. I had seen him come home from patrols, his clothes torn and his skin bloodied and yet he steadfastly claimed to be _fine_ when in truth he swayed precariously on his horse, threatening to lose consciousness any moment. He hated to worry others, for some reason assuming his own hurts were negligible and no cause for worry.

“Alright,” I agreed, knowing full well that this was a character trait I could not cure him of. However, I could try. “If you promise to be truthful from now on. You can start by telling me exactly how you feel.”

He thought for a moment, either pondering my request or trying to decide what to tell me. I could not back down now. “Estel, do I not have your trust?”

“Of course you do. It is just... you worry, I can see it in your eyes. You hardly sleep, do not think I would not notice. And yet, knowing my hurts will not make them better. It will accomplish nothing.”

I had been right; he did not want to worry me when he thought it was a fruitless endeavor. “There you are wrong, Estel. I will worry, whatever you choose to tell me, because I love you. But if you confide in me, we can both share this burden. Do you not think it will be easier to bear then?”

Estel looked at me with a rueful expression. “I have born my hurts alone for the past twenty years. I guess it has become something of a second nature to keep to myself. I will try not to do that in the future. I think...” He paused. “I think I would like to share my burden with you. I remember life was always lighter after you had extricated a secret from me.”

“True,” I agreed. “It will be the same now, you will see.”

He nodded, ready to take the plunge. “At first, there was only pain. I have never felt a pain grip me so fiercely. Yes, it originated in my shoulder, but it travelled everywhere, occupying my whole body. It was a fire, a hot poker, a spike. It twisted and turned in my flesh. It made me wheeze, because I did not have the strength to take a real breath. I do not know how many days passed, when or how I lost consciousness, whether someone came down into the basement. There was only me and that pain.”

He fell silent, resting for a moment since a long talk like this tired him as much as our journey. I waited out his silence, cursing myself for not reaching him sooner when he had needed me.

“It numbed in the end, a dull throb that would spike from time to time: when I accidentally moved, took a wrong breath, concentrated on it. It is still there, after all those days it has not lessened, has not left me alone for a moment. In sleep it worms its way into my dreams, in waking it takes up my every thought. It wears me down, Lassë. I wish it were not so.”

Estel shook his head in defeat. “I will not go back on my promise to find the right path with you, but is so hard to even take the next breath sometimes.”

“What about the willowbark I gave you?” I asked in a small voice. It had always been hard for me to see him in pain. To hear him admit to his hurts threatened to break my heart.

“It hardly makes a difference.”

“But why? It is a powerful medicine. It should at least help you rest.”

He shook his head. “I do not know why, but it does not work as it should.”

This was not easy to stomach, but it was still better than not knowing what pained him. “I am glad you told me.” I prayed to the Valar that they would lessen his pain, would give this burden to me instead. Then I prayed that he would make it through this alive, that I would see him smile again - a carefree and painless smile -, that he would see his family and his home and that I would feel his hands on me and that I would enjoy it. I put all my love, my determination and my faith into the silent prayer, gripping Estel’s right hand tightly.

I realized that this was much to wish for at this moment, but my desperation grew with every day we were on the road. At last I prayed that the Lady of the Wood might anticipate our arrival, because her talents were many and mysterious, and that she would know what to do.

“It feels better,” Estel said with obvious wonder in his voice. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I answered, “just wishing for too much in too little time.” I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed his palm.

Estel looked at me quizzically, and I decided to change the topic. “I still need to re-stitch those.” I let my index fingers trail lightly over the abused flesh of Estel’s shoulder, which caused a shiver to run through his body.

We did not talk while I fetched his pack and prepared a needle and thread. We did not talk either, when I lifted the needle to his shoulder. It was only when the needle was ready to pierce his skin that Estel spoke. “Tie my hands.”

His sudden request startled me and I looked at him incrediously, not understanding his intent at first. “What?!”

“Tie my hands,” he repeated, his voice unwavering. “I do not want to hurt you.”

Only then did I realize that he meant to protect me. Estel did not trust himself anymore, could not predict his own reaction to my touch. I remembered last night, his unprecedented fury and aggression and how powerless I had been against it. Therefore, I gave his request serious thought, weighing it in my mind and testing the limits of my own fear. In the end, I decided against it. The only way for our love to survive what had happened last night was to rebuild the trust between us. And trust would not come from me securing him with rope. I feared it, but I had to take this leap of faith and hope that Estel would be able to control himself, now knowing what would happen if he failed.

Another, more unsettling thought occured to me: Who knew if simple rope could hold him down. He was as weak as a newborn foal at the moment, but yesterday he had had the strength of a bear. Rope was no solution to any of our problems.

“I will do no such thing,” I told him firmly and with more conviction than I actually felt. “You will not hurt me, concentrate on that thought. And this time, tell me when you need a break.” I looked at him pointedly.

“Please,” Estel tried again, but I would not be swayed. It was my hope that the realization of how much faith I had in him would help him strengthen his resolve. I needed to be strong, so that he could be strong as well.

Estel soon accepted that he would not win this fight and he gave me a short frustrated nod, allowing me to proceed. When I took up the needle, I saw him take a firm rein on his thoughts and his body. I could practically feel his body thrum with concentration. He seemed far away when I stitched the skin, his eyes distant and alien. However, his breath stayed even, the deep in- and exhales loud.

From time to time I asked whether he was all right, whether he needed a break, but he never took me up on that offer. So I tried to be swift, only stopping for a moment to dab the sweat from his forehead with a rag. Estel never even acknowledged the little service, staying silent and still. He tensed once, during the end of my ministrations, but willed his body to relax again.

I had been just as tense, one part of my mind concentrating on what my hands were doing and the other part trying to sense Estel’s state of mind. I tried to anticipate whether he would be able to hold out. And I tried to come up with an idea of what to do if he would not. I was relieved when my task was over and I could put away the needle.

Concentrating this hard had taken a toll on him and he seemed drained when I wrapped the wound tightly.

“Hungry?” I could already guess the answer and was therefore not surprised when he only shook his head.

“Sit with me, I want you near,” Estel requested instead, his wish sounding more like a question.

We shuffled and rearranged our bodies until I embraced most of his upper body while he rested comfortably against me. I felt his fever spike again, evidenced by the flush of his cheeks and the trickle of sweat that collected on his temples.

“You should sleep,” I offered needlessly. I could already see his eyelids drop.

“If you sleep with me. You must be tired.”

I am sure he knew he was in no position to make demands. He would fall asleep either way. But he was right, I had slept too little during the last days.

“I will. Let us get some rest. I will keep your dreams light.”

I laid my finger upon his brow as if I could connect to his mind this way. We fell asleep like this, entangled in each other’s arms and my resting mind beant on keeping my love’s sleep undisturbed.

**Notes:**

  * The title comes from the Sarah McLachlan song “Dirty Little Secret”.




**Translation:**

meleth – love

O Valar! - By the gods!


	9. In my Eyes you See the Moon

#  9\. In My Eyes You See the Moon

Our talk had helped eradicate the strange tension that had begun to build between us and it had given us both new strength and belief. I could see a new determination burn in Estel’s eyes when he woke the next morning, even if his health was further deteriorating. It was quite visible that each next breath, each next word was a struggle for him, but it seemed that he took up the fight with a new resolve. And if I looked into my own heart, I felt as if I had stepped back from the abyss of despair that loomed before me. That abyss had not vanished completely, I could still see it clearly, but I had taken a step back – a step back into safety – and I hoped that the coming days would help me retreat further from falling into despair over what had happened.

I could not say no to Estel’s shy question of whether we would once again ride together on Eadie, falling prey to the need in his grey eyes. This morning, they reflected the deep green of the forest floor, and when the sun hit them in just the right angle, light green flecks appeared in his irises. In contrast with his pale skin and dark hair his gaze appeared intense, almost hypnotic and I let myself drown in his eyes for a moment.

Once we had mounted, I found that I was not at all hale. Before Estel had woken this morning, I had once again taken care of my own hurts, stripping and inspecting the bruises and scrapes. Elves heal quickly and the injuries had been minor to begin with, so I had found the aches in my body greatly diminished, hoping that at least these reminders of Estel forcing himself on me would be vanished in a day or two. Still, the saddle felt uncomfortable and I shifted repeatedly, trying to find a position I could hold for longer than a few minutes. Estel noticed my fidgeting, of course, and in the end forced me to dismount. His voice was quiet and flat and his eyes downcast when he proposed I walk for a while, showing his own discomfort at the situation.

I complied, but in doing so was surprised to find that I missed Estel’s closeness – a thing I had dreaded less than twenty-four hours ago. I had not forgotten my sudden insight: Estel’s haggard appearance was reminder enough of my fear that he would soon pass from this world. I wanted to hold him, steady him, lend him my strength for I knew that every kiss I bestowed upon his lips might be the last he would receive in this world. Being bereft of his closeness for the moment, I decided to once again rest my hand on his thigh, enjoying the touch for its simplicity. Estel did not react at first, but after a while his own hand reached down, coming to rest upon mine on his thigh. Nothing was spoken, not even when his hand loosely encircled mine.

Discreetely, I lifted my eyes, trying to get a look of his face when he felt unobserved. Estel was slightly leaning forward, a sign that his wound was paining him. His left hand rested uselessly in the sling I had fashioned for him so the arm would be immobile. His right hand, which had held the reins, was closed around my hand. His cheeks were flushed, starkly contrasting with his pale complexion, and his eyes were closed. He obviously tried to rest, even as he sat atop Eadie, but the fact that the delicate skin under his eyes only darkened with each passing hour proved that his exhaustion would not leave him.

Once again, I forced myself to think about his death – not an obscure occurence far in the future, but something that might happen now, in the next hours or days. I remembered having considered the possibility before, when I had first seen the severity of the wound. I had panicked and despaired, pushing the thought as far from my mind as I had been able. It had frightened me to the point where I bodily ached.

Now there was an empty void where the thought of his death should be. I simply refused to accept the possible outcome of our journey, giving in to the absurd thought that nothing but my wishing it so would keep Estel with me. I could not go there in my mind, being unable to imagine Estel’s dead body. To think that his breath would still, that his eyes would close, that I would never again hear his heartbeat or feel the warmth of his body... the concept was absolutely alien to me. Mabye this was my mind’s way to keep my sanity, ensuring I could function and get Estel to safety. Lothlórien was like a fixed star in my thoughts, giving me direction and focus. Apart from that I existed only in the here and now, living for that particular moment with Estel, that particular kiss, that unconscious brush of his thumb against my hand.

We gave the horses a short rest around noon, using the break to refill our water skins in a small lake and checking Estel’s bandage for red spots – thankfully there were none. When we departed I decided to ride once again, settling behind Estel and encircling his middle. The short reprise had roused Estel a bit; his eyes were open and he was looking around, taking in his surroundings.

Mouse’s reins were tethered to Eadie’s saddle, a practice we had found most useful, and the gelding trotted along trying to stop every few steps for a blade of grass or an especially succulent leaf. Eadie would have none of it, though. She had understood long ago that we needed to reach our destination as soon as possible. So she trotted on without waiting for my encouragement, forcing Mouse to abandon his meal and quicken his step.

Even Estel was amused by his horse’s antics and I was delighted to hear him chuckle when Mouse once again turned his neck in the desperate attempt to snatch a batch of greenery. His body shook slightly from his laughter and I pulled him tight against me in a move born from instinct and love. I let my hands snake under his shirt until they rested on the bare skin of his chest, right where the bandage ended. The action felt good, and I figured that being the initiator of a caress gave me confidence and security. I decided to test my theory right away by letting my hands travel the planes of his body, tickling his belly button, stroking his sides, resting my fingers on the bandage.

Estel found the touch pleasurable, leaning more heavily into me, and rested his head against me. While we both enjoyed my wandering hands, my experimental touches made it more than clear how emanciated he was. I could easily feel his ribs, a continuous _bump_ , _bump_ , _bump_ against my fingertips when I let them run down his sides. The hard muscle that had come from spending time outdoors, labouring and fighting, had all but wasted away, stolen by sickness and exhaustion.

He had not eaten much, neither asking for food nor agreeing to try anything I offered him. Those few bites were hardly enough to give his weakened body enough strength to heal and I once again wondered what else I might do to convince him to take nourishment. Maybe it had been the manner of food and not the food itself? Maybe something besides bread and fruit would be more enticing?

My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed a shiver go through Estel’s body. My first reaction was worry, but then his moan reached my ears and I smiled. That sound had not been born from pain, but from pleasure. My hands had never stopped their travel, even when my mind had been preoccupied with more serious thoughts, and Estel pushed lightly into my touch when my right hand tried to work its way into his leggins.

“Do you enjoy this?” I asked, nibbling his earlobe.

“You know I do. Do not stop.” He sounded distracted, obviously more interested in simply feeling than speaking with me. To have him react this way was incredibly arousing and I felt my own lust stir.

“I am sure there were many women in Gondor who would have liked to touch you like this.” We were committed, even if we were not bonded, and I trusted him to honour and cherish our love. Still, he had been away for many years. I was certain he would not betray me, but I could not help wanting to hear it from his own mouth.

“No!” He roused himself a bit from the haze of passion that had gripped him, but I did not give him a chance, snaking my hand deeper into his leggins, coming in contact with the coarse hair surrounding his cock. His breath quickened, and what other words he had planned to say to me were swallowed by a small outcry when my fingers brushed against his stiffening member.

“Rohan, then. I hear the women are fiery there. Let alone the men!”

“But...” Estel started to pant heavily when I rubbed my palm against his cock. The horse’s movements furthered my efforts, he rolled into my touch again and again. I, in return, was pushed against Estel’s backside with every step Eadie took. I was surprised to notice that my body reacted to the stimulus. A fire shot through my veins and it burned hot and desperate for a moment until it lessened to a steady flicker. It was far from my usual passionate response to being close to Estel, but it was a start.

“I know quite a few elves in Rivendell and Mirkwood who have thrown glances at you. You are are irresistable, it seems.” My mouth trailed lower, resting on his throat. I started to suckle at the delicate flesh, enjoying his flavour and the fact that his head fell back quite unexpectedly, baring more of his skin to my touch.

“What...?” I smiled into the kiss. It had always amused me to see how absolutely unaware he was of his charms. It seemed even his time abroad had not cured him of his ignorance.

“If you could, what would you do now?”

“Kiss you,” he gasped and turned his head, offering his mouth. I obliged gladly, feeling his tongue probe for entrance as soon as our lips touched. I opened to him, inviting him to taste to his heart’s delight. Our tongues danced while my hand worked on his cock, feeling it swell and stiffen until it strained against the cloth of his leggins. Estel was panting hard, suckling at my tongue, and his hand reached around our bodies, coming to rest on my rear, pushing me forward to rest more snugly against his backside.

The kiss faded, the first frenzy spent. “And then? What would you do then?” I asked when we both came up for air.

“Strip you. Look at your skin, so pale and smooth.” Estel looked at me, his eyes glazed and his lips swollen from our kiss. He held my gaze unwaveringly until my fingers twisted on his cock and his eyes fluttered closed. He shifted with a moan, trying to give me better access, but that was a hard thing to achieve on a moving horse.

“And once you had me naked, what then?”

“Taste you, lick you. Your sweat, your essence, everything.” His breath hitched repeatedly while he spoke. He moaned again, partly from my continued attention to his cock, partly from the erotic image of his own words.

“I would urge you on. What would you do?”

“Hope that you would grant me access, let my finger in. I would stroke you slowly until you are slick and ready for me. You would be so beautiful lying there, waiting for my touch.”

“And then?” My free hand came to rest on his throat. I could not resist the temptation of his slightly openened mouth and brushed my thumb against his lower lip. His tongue darted out, slicking the digit with saliva.

“I would enter you, carefully, and then draw out. I would do it slowly, push into you and draw out. Again and again, until you were crazy with lust.”

I let him suck on my thumb while my hand was busy on his cock. He arched into the touch and I knew he was almost there. I whispered my love into his ear and stroked one last time the whole length of his member and then he came. His eyes opened wide, staring blindly into the blue sky, he came, coating my fingers with his seed and pushing weakly against my hand again and again. He was almost silent but for the wheeze of his exhausted body, and I observed his every move and breath and reaction and took from it what pleasure I could.

Estel’s hand on my backside moved and he tried to reach between our bodies. “You are yet unfulfilled,” he said in a quiet voice and the moment his questing fingers brushed against my loins, panic wanted to take over.

I willed by body to stay still, but Estel’s hand on me was too much. I took it in a firm grip and relocated it to his front, letting it rest on the pommel of the saddle. “Leave it be for now.”

My voice sounded more plaintive than I would have liked, but that caused Estel to truly leave it be and he made no other attempt to touch me.

We stayed motionless until our breath had calmed sufficiently, but before either of us could say anything more, Estel’s stomach gave a loud rumble. I let go of him and looked into his blushing face.

“Hungry?” I asked while I extricated my slick hand from his clothing.

Estel shrugged. “Not sure.” He made it sound like a question.

Mhm, that had not been a definite no. A sudden idea hit me. He had eaten a bit of dried meat and he had not objected to the food back then. So, if he would not eat bread or fruit, maybe some meat would do the trick.

“We will make camp earlier today and I will go hunting for you.”

Estel did not answer, but I could see he was not entirely opposed to the idea. Could it really be so easy? Could it really be simply the choice of food? I hoped it was so, for as things stood now he was wasting away in front of my eyes.

Despite my earlier promise, the shadows had already grown long before we found a suitable resting spot and made camp. The horses – even Mouse – had proven their stamina and had walked through the afternoon without tiring. I had never been in these parts before, but I had spent my youth with the maps in my father’s study, imagining far away lands and peoples. Therefore, I was quite sure that Lothlórien was not far now. I had been loath to stop, urging the horses to cover as many miles as possible, until the darkening sky indicated that we would not reach our destination this day.

We found shelter under an old oak. Its branches spread a canopy of green above our heads, offering sufficient cover from the elements. The trunk was enormous and bore the many scars of a long life. I let my fingers run along the bark and the tree’s joy at the presence of one of the Firstborn reverberated through my mind. It was old and weary, having witnessed too many storms and harsh winters, and would find the end of its lifespan soon. The tree would hold out a while longer, though, and I felt humbled suddenly, that we were blessed enough to spend the night under the protection of such an old soul.

I was brought back to reality by the sound of Estel clearing his throat. When I opened my eyes I realized that he was still stitting atop Eadie, wearing an amused expression.

“Are you done communing with nature? Because I could use a helping hand here.”

I hurried to his side, secretely delighted that he could make light of the fact that he was unable to dismount by himself. That was unusal for him. The memory of our talk was probably still fresh on his mind and he was consciously trying to be more open with me.

Even if he had scoffed at my silent talk with the tree, he seemed equally awed by the oak when I helped him to the sleeping roll I had prepared for him under the strong boughs. He rested his weary body against the oak’s trunk, exhaling, and let his hand run along one of the many roots that had broken the earth. I observe his fascination quietly while I set about lighting a fire and unsaddling the horses.

“I think, even together we would be unable to reach around the tree trunk. We have a few trees that old at home. I used to climb them in order to hide from my brothers. Or from Ada, on one of the many occasions when he found out I had – once again - missed my history lesson with Erestor.”

“Let us not try that right now,” I chuckled, amused by the idea that an infuriated Elrond would hunt down Estel, who in turn was hiding in a tree. “I promised to go hunting. I better leave now before the hour grows too late.”

I brought his things and arranged them within easy reach. “I will leave the water skin with you and I trust you will drink it.” I threw him a stern glance and he nodded obediently. “Your sword is here.” I propped it up against the tree, so that Estel could easily reach for it if the need arose.

“You take this.” I handed him the small dagger from his pack, the one his brothers had given him for his fifteenth birthday. “The area does not seem dangerous to me, but we better be cautious nonetheless. I will not be gone long and I will not venture far from our camp. If anything out of the ordinary happens, whistle.” Whenever I had been able, I had accompanied Estel when he rode with the rangers, so I knew they used a variety of whistles when talking was impossible. I had picked up quite a few and had even started to teach them to Mirkwood’s warriors. It was a useful trick.

He nodded and tested the blade in his hand before resting the weapon in his lap. I bent down and kissed his forehead in farewell, but when I turned to leave I found his hand tangled in my hair, drawing me down once again for a proper farewell. I did not resist and soon his mouth was on mine in a kiss that was almost chaste. He tasted different, of sickness and weariness, of willowbark and something foreign I could not name. But underneath all that he was still Estel and my body responded to the well-known flavour of his mouth. I lingered a moment, even after the kiss had ended and inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent.

“Be safe.” Estel’s hand returned to his lap. I straightened and made to go.

“Rest,” I said in parting. “I will be back before you know it.”

I enjoyed the time I spent in the woods, treading on silent feet, listening to the sounds of the forest and tracking animal-prints in the soft soil. It was something I was good at, something I could master – and in that it was entirely different to Estel’s weakness I found unable to heal. I became one with the forest, keeping to the shadows and gripping my bow tightly in anticipation of the kill.

It was easy, almost automatic: Find, follow, shoot, collect and I revelled in the repetition of movements that had become instinct for me. Night descended upon the forest, but I had no problem seeing my surroundings. A full moon was rising, the round disk big and pale as it hung low in the sky. From time to time a cloud would push itself in front of the disk, but the sudden darkness never lasted long. I found the trees bathed in a surreal glowing light. Everything was illuminated in a sickly yellow light, enough to see by, but still leaving a lot in shadow and blackness. The air grew hot and thick around me and the forest turned eerily quiet in anticipation of a thunderstorm. There was no wind and no rainclouds, though, and I figured it would be some time yet before the storm truly broke.

I shot two rabbits, more than enough to feed us both and I turned back, heading for our camp with quick steps. I had almost reached the old oak when a feeling of such dark foreboding overcame me that I had to stop for a moment, unable to move or think past the sudden horror that was gripping me tightly. I knew not where it came from or what it meant, but I instantly understood that something terrible was about to happen – or had already happened. I thought of Estel and I cursed myself for leaving him alone when he was in no condition to defend himself.

He had not whistled for my help and that comforted until I realized that he might have been overcome so suddenly that he had had no time to call for me. Had he been attacked? Was he succumbing to his wound? There was only one way to find out and I hurried back to our camp, trying to keep my growing panic at bay.

The first thing I noticed upon entering our camp was the wolf and I came to a sudden stop, trying to give the animal as much space as possible. It was huge, but alone, and I was almost confident that a lone wolf would not attack prey as big as myself. I had no desire to test my theory, though, so I remained unmoving to give the animal no cause for an attack..

Only then did I notice that Estel was not where I had left him. His blanket lay discarded where he had been sitting against the oak, but of the man himself there was no trace. I inhaled sharply when my fear bubbled to the surface. What if he had fled from the wolf and was lost in the woods somewhere? What if the wolf was not as alone as it seemed and Estel had been attacked by a pack? Too many possibilities raced through my mind and the urge to call out to Estel became unbearable.

“Estel!” I cried under my breath, as quietly as I dared while still being heard. The only answer was a low growl from the wolf in front of me, warning me that it was unwise to provoke the animal. I took a closer look and was ready to discard the possibility of a pack waiting not far off. It was probably the largest wolf I had ever seen, but it was painfully thin and its coat looked shaggy. Maybe the animal was old and had been exiled from its pack, it surely looked starved and desperate. I meant to see dried blood in its fur, but was unable to peruse the wolf further, because its dull and tired eyes became sharp suddenly, their yellow colour flickering unsteadily as it seemed to stare me down. The wolf bared its fangs and I could see that its teeth were big and sharp and white. Saliva was dripping from the left eye-tooth and a shiver ran down my spine, for my body realized the danger it was in even if my mind still insisted that a lone wolf would not attack an elf.

I had not done anything, had not moved at least, but still the wolf seemed prepared to attack me. It took a daring step forward and sniffed the air. In that moment I remembered the two rabbits and surmised that the wolf might be attracted by the smell of fresh meat. Coming quickly to a decision I tied one of the rabbits lose and threw it in front of the wolf as a kind of nonverbial peace-offering. If I was _really_ lucky, the wolf would take the rabbit and run off. If I was lucky, it would be distracted enough for me to retreat and search for Estel.

The animal sprang forward and buried its teeth in the flesh of the dead rabbit. I heard bones snap and soon the wolf’s snout was bloody from digging its nose deeply into the still warm body. The wolf put one foot down on the rabbit and then tore at the flesh with its teeth. There was a wet sound when skin and coat gave and the small animal was torn asunder. The wolf did not bother to chew, it simply swallowed what it bit off, concentrating wholly on this unexpected feast.

I had my eyes fixed on the beast, but my other senses tried to detect any hint of Estel’s whereabouts. I heard Mouse’s panicked whinny and another warning growl from the wolf, but nothing that told me Estel was near. I took a step back from the wolf, starting a slow retreat.

“Estel, where are you?” I called again, a little more loudly this time because my desperation grew and I deemed the wolf distracted. My only answer was a threatening snarl from the wolf. It let go of its meal for the moment and stood on stiff legs, its eyes fixed on me. Its snout was red and dripping with blood and my stomach started to revolt at the image the animal presented. It took a step forward with a definite limp, but the beast was not deterred by its own limitation. It snapped its teeth together and then growled again. A tickle ran down my spine at this and I slowly unslung my bow, sighting in on the beast, because I realized the wolf would not back down now.

“Meleth, answer me!” I shouted this time, feeling a lot safer with my bow in hand. When there still was no answer, a whole stream of words rushed out.

“Adan, do not hide from me!” I called, followed by his name and a curse I could not swallow. Through all of this the wolf grew more agitated. The beast stepped forward, growling, and then took a step back again as if uncertain how it should react. It sniffed in my direction and I saw teeth gleem dangerously white in the moonlit night. Then, from one moment to the next, the wolf attacked, jumping forward and opening its mouth wide.

“Aragorn, dammit!” I called one last time for Estel, a call born from instinct since I could not afford the distraction right now. I spared my love one last thought and then pulled the bow tight, ready to release an arrow.

I do not know why I did not shoot. The wolf was about to jump me, was dangerously close in fact. And still I did nothing to defend my life. My call for Estel echoed through the night until it was swallowed by darkness.

The attacking wolf reacted in an unexpected way to my shout. In mid-jump it seemed to cringe and draw in on itself. There was a painful yelp, something that sounded so human it made my skin crawl. And then it landed, landed on human hands, and when all of the beast was earthbound once more, it writhed and turned. My mind was unable to understand what my eyes were seeing. Paws turned into human hands and the wolf’s snout became shorter and lost its pelt. The whole shape of the body was changing and I heard the sickening sound of bones breaking and grinding together. And then suddenly, what was before me was not a wolf anymore but a man.

I blinked and noticed how I shook. From head to toe tremors worked their way through my body. For what I had witnessed just now, simply could not be. That wolf could not have turned into a human – a naked, very familiar human. And still it had. The bow fell useless from my hands and I stood rooted to the spot, still in shock.

The human turned, unconscious or asleep, and gave a low moan. The sound finally shattered the trance I had fallen into.

“Aragorn,” I breathed, my eyes locking onto his naked, shivering form and I rushed forward to lend him warmth and strength.

**Notes:**

  * The chapter titles comes from the Girls under Glass song “Truly Living”.

  * The dagger Legolas hands Aragorn is snatched from another story of mine, “Come Back a Man”. That one is not part of the “Untamed”-series, but you could read it as an official prequel of sorts.




**Translation:**  
meleth – love

adan – man

ada - father


	10. Bitterness Inside You Calling

# 10\. Bitterness Inside You Calling

I rushed over to his motionless form and touched him, because my confused mind needed to make sure that this was truly the man I loved. And it was – my fingers recognized his skin, the hair upon his chest, the scars on his body, the shape of his cheekbones, his chin, his lips. I had traced them a thousand times before, knowing his body by heart. Still, even though I recognized the man on the ground, everything had changed. Estel had changed. I had accepted days ago that something terrible had happened to Estel, but this... I had not expected _this_.

The large wolf in our camp, thin and sick, with blood in its fur and a heavy limp had turned into Estel before my own eyes. Or Estel had turned into the wolf... I let my fingers trail along his arm once again to make sure there was no fur. Anywhere.

I had heard of such things, of werewolves serving the Dark Lord. However, these things had been never more than stories in old tomes of history. They did not exist anymore, not now and not here at least. They belonged in a different age. Feverishly, I tried to recall what I knew about the First Age and of the dark creatures that had roamed Beleriand back then, but my mind refused any clear thought. I could not form a thought beyond the horrible realization that Estel had somehow been infected with that evil.

It was useless to deny the obvious: Estel was gaur, a werewolf. And as if that was not enough to ponder, it posed the question whether it made him a servant of the Dark Lord as well. The possibility filled me with terror. It was terrible enough to see him turned into _this_ , but to imagine that he who had pledged his life to battle the remaining darkness in Middle Earth, could be forced to follow Sauron’s orders... I just could not allow myself to believe that the Valar would be this cruel.

I drew a blanket around his naked form and moved him nearer to the fire. The flicker of the flames painted nightmarish images on the canvas of his skin and I watched transfixed as dragons and monsters unknown played on his face. He was still unconscious, which I found quite natural after having witnessed the obviously painful change his body had had to endure. I lifted my fingers to his throat and pressed lightly against his jugular, finding his pulse slow and lazy, yet strong. I hugged him close to my body in the vain hope that my simple presence could keep away this evil.

So many things started to make sense now: It seemed Aragorn had indeed killed a wolf in that alley; a wolf that had then turned into a man. He had been cursed and had somehow managed to afflict Estel with the same evil before he had died. It explained why the serious wound had not killed Estel. And maybe even his loss of appetite and his moodswings could be explained thus. Of course there was his ... attack. He truly had not been himself when he had forced himself on me. It had been the beast I had seen just now. It had been the beast’s inhuman strength, its anger and rage that had fuelled Estel’s unspeakable act. For a moment that insight comforted me until I realized that this had only been the first time when he had been unable to control this curse that had been put upon him. Tonight I had witnessed the second time. I third would surely follow.

Estel moved slightly in my arms, interrupting my train of thought. I looked down upon his face and found him to be still unconscious, his face screwed up in disgust. I had seen that frown too often during the last few days, but now I finally knew what was causing it. I imagined that even in sleep he tried to ward off the evil that had taken hold of him.

“Lassë.” He sighed my name in a voice still rough from sleep and turned his head into my chest, inhaling deeply. “I fell asleep.” He sounded surprised and when he finally opened his eyes, confusion was written clearly on his face.

“Did not mean to,” he mumbled while he tried to maneuver himself into a more upright position while still staying in my arms.

“Do not worry, meleth,” I soothed, noticing that he did not remember what had happened. How should I tell him something like that?

“You had your bow drawn,” Estel said suddenly and frowned.

It seemed he at least remembered _something_. He and that wolf, they shared a mind. Maybe I could help his memory along. “Did you dream that?” I asked gently, hoping to return his memory to him as painlessly as possible.

“I think so,” Estel said carefully, but I could tell he was unconvinced. He looked around and his eyes fell on my discarded bow, lying a few feet away from us. “I wanted to be near you, you smelled so good. But you had your bow drawn.”

Then the floodgates of his memory seemed to open and he began to speak in a rushed voice. “I wanted to lick you, kiss you, bite you, tear you to shreds, swallow your blood.” He stopped in horror and I was speechless, realizing that the beast’s desire had been his own at least partially. The wolf wanted me, because I was what Estel loved most. And Estel wanted to hurt me, because that had been the wolf’s wish. It was frightening.

“O, Valar,” was all Estel managed to force out and I felt him tremble in my arms. “I wanted to kill you. I was about to attack you, but then everything started to hurt and to change. I fell and I looked at my hands. They were... not human. I was... was... No!” he sobbed the last word into my shirt in a voice that sounded betrayed, hopeless and forsaken.

“No,” he repeated again and again like a chant as if that one word could undo the last ten days.

“No!” he finally screamed in a raw voice, and all of his hurt, pain and desillusion reverberated in that one word. He freed himself of my grip with a sudden strength that failed to surprise me anymore and crouched in the shadows, just out of touching distance. He noticed his nakedness, but discarded it as unimportant. Instead he simply sat there, his arms around his knees, his hair a tangled mess and his eyes wild and desperate, glowing amber in the firelight.

“Kill me,” Estel demanded and I gasped upon hearing his plea. His voice was steady now, sounding eerily like the voice of a captain giving orders to his men. My shock must have been visible on my face, because Estel continued. “A werewolf, Legolas! They answer only to Sauron, they follow his will. Ada used to read me stories about Beleriand as a child, how these beasts would prowl the walls of Tol-in-Gaurhoth and search for enemies. Even Sauron himself could turn into a werwolf. Sauron, Legolas! And I can feel this evil in me stir. Do not make me forswear all my beliefs and oaths. End it now, as long as I am still myself. Please, kill me!”

The desperation was clear in his voice. He was dead-serious, but still I could not fulfill this wish. “I will not,” I said gently and moved forward in his direction. He scrambled backwards in turn, intent on keeping a safe distance between us.

“Do it!” he ordered again in a firm voice. Estel looked up, anguish written across his face. “Please.”

I held his gaze and saw only sincerety and conviction in his eyes. “I cannot,” I answered and part of me felt guilty for being unable to do his bidding. His reasoning was sound, and still I could not take a knife to his flesh.

Anger showed on his features. “You say you love me. ‘Tis a deed of love I ask of you. Spare me this fate, please!”

I shook my head. I badly wanted him to stop begging. “You know I cannot. You can ask any boon of me. I will walk to the end of Arda to right this wrong. I would offer my life to Ilúvatar himself to spare you. Anything. I would do anything.” I paused. “But I will not do this, I am sorry.”

He looked at me, resignation written plainly across his face. I already thought I had convinced him when his his face turned into a mask that swallowed all emotion.

He lunged forward and to my shame I must admit I feared him in that moment. I misjudged his intent, thinking he might want to attack me. However, instead of tackling me, he grabbed for something to my left, hugged it to his chest and then returned to his place two paces from me.

I was puzzled at first, but then I saw metal glint in his hand. It was the dagger I had given him before heading out into the woods.

“I will do it myself, then,” Estel vowed, lifting the dagger to his throat. No nerves betrayed his movement – his hand was steady. “I would have left this world gladly by your hand, but this is just as well. As long as you are the last thing I see upon this world I shall be content.”

He pushed the dagger forward, ready to sever his jugular with one swift move, and I rushed forward on pure instinct. The blade pierced his skin, drawing the first blood, and I grabbed desperately for the weapon, trying to move it away from his throat so it could do no further harm.

Estel was not deterred by my intervention and fought to regain control of the dagger. We struggled wildly, neither of us ready to give up. He panted heavily, but kept going, probably fuelled by the inhuman strength that was at his command. I knew he was now stronger than me, but I refused to give up so easily. I would fight for his life, even if he would not.

We grappled with each other, each trying to wrest the dagger from the other’s hand. Accidentally, the sharp blade cut across my wrist and that was the moment when Estel stopped. His fight ceased so suddenly that I almost fell into him. He let go off the weapon as if it was a burning iron while his eyes fastened on the small wound on my wrist. He reverently took my hand and lifted it to his mouth. Estel had nothing to stem the sluggish flow of blood, so he made to kiss the wound better.

I felt his tongue lap against my skin. Only once did it lick across my wrist and I shuddered from an act so frightening yet sensual. He looked up at me and his eyes burnt bright as if the moon itself was lighting them from winthin. It was the beast looking out of his eyes. Hungrily it looked at me, ready to take more of my blood. I gasped, tugging at my hand with growing desperation. The movement seemed to bring him back to himself.

“Sorry,” Estel all but whimpered. “Sorry, did not want to hurt you.” He did not let go of my hand, but neither did he try to lap at the wound again. I surmised that the danger had passed and a sudden calm started to settle between us.

“You did not hurt me,” I soothed him. “It is just a small wound, I do not feel it at all.”

“You would not lie to me,” he asked, insecure.

“I would not, I promise.” He let my hand rest against his cheek, offering and craving the caress. I grabbed a rag with my free hand and held it to the cut on his throat, applying pressure for a while.

Estel did not resist, having given up his attempt to kill himself – at least for now. When I took the rag away, the small cut had already closed. I urged him nearer and he settled against me chest once more.

“We will find a way to make this undone. Tomorrow, we will reach Lothlórien. Lady Galadriel will know what to do. She will, surely.”

“Lassë,” Estel looked up and his serious eyes held my gaze. “She is the wisest elf in all of Arda. She might know a way to reverse this curse. But maybe there is nothing that can be done. If so...”

I did not let him finish. “You do not know that. So let us not speak about that now.”

Estel sighed and nodded, accepting my refusal to discuss his death once more. “We will speak about this again,” he said instead. “And then I will not take _no_ for an answer.”

I stayed silent, hoping fervently that that day would never come.

Just as I had predicted it never rained during the night. The next morning a bright sun rose, but the air was still hot and heavy, making every movement an effort. I would have liked the cleansing rain to wash us free of painful memories, instead we would have to ride through this oppressive weather. I hoped we were indeed not far from our goal now and would soon reach the Golden Wood.

Our night had been rough and mostly sleepless. At least I felt as if I had not closed my eyes once. It had taken a long time until Estel had calmed down enough to even attempt sleep. In the end it was only his exhaustion that allowed him to nod off. I had watched him like a hawk, afraid that the moment I looked elsewhere the wolf would return. What would happen then? Would he have the strength to return to his own self? Was it even possible? Or did the werewolves of old stay in their animal form until they died?

There were too many questions that needed answering, but apparently all these uncertainties and worries did not prevent me from falling asleep. I remembered Estel’s troubled sleep waking me from slumber some time past midnight. And after that I truly did not sleep. His dreams were dark and his body refused to lie still. Sometimes, his arms were flailing as if warding off an unseen enemy. Other times, he rolled into a ball while his eyes moved rapidly behind his lids. I tried to comfort him as best I could, but when a low rumble started low in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a growl, I stepped away from him, afraid to wake the wolf while I tried to comfort the man.

And so the shadows under Estel’s eyes had grown once again when the sun started its journey across the sky. Estel was quiet, barely talking at all, and kept his distance.

The clothes he had worn last night stayed lost. I had unsuccessfully searched our camp for them, but another tour in the light of day did not bring success either. Estel had another pair of leggins in his pack, but we had already used all of his shirts. It was unlikely that he fancied riding into Lothlórien half-naked, but even with his weightloss I was certain he would not fit into any of my shirts. There was another option, though. With a smile, I digged deep into my pack in search of one particular item.

Once I found what I had been looking for, I approached him with a stash of clothes, ready to help him dress. He seemed wary of my movements and I was reminded of a caged animal following its captor’s every move with watchful eyes. I gently lifted the blanket from his shoulders and took a moment to inspect the wound. Estel did not even flinch when I prodded the edges of the injury or followed the healing skin with my index finger. He only spoke when he noticed my hand lingering on his upper arm.

“Why do you touch me?”

The question caught me unawares. “Because I like touching you.”

“I am a monster,” he said flatly, as if the statement did not concern him at all. “You should not love me.”

When Estel had been younger, his doubts concerning my love had resurfaced often. He had had a hard time to accept that an elf prince could love him, a mere human. I remember emotional talks deep into the night in which Estel explained that I could do better than him only to implore me in the next moment not to leave him. It had taken many words to finally convince him that his insecurities were unfounded and when he had grown older, the topic had finally turned into one that amused us both. Estel would, in jest, doubt my love. And I would throw a flippant comment at him to convince him otherwise.

Now, nothing but the truth would do, though. “I cannot change what is in my heart. And you cannot either.”

“Do you not feel this darkness? It is everywhere, squeezing my heart with an iron fist until I fear it must break under the pressure. This curse has found a home in me and it is only a matter of time until it swallows me whole. I do not trust myself around you. I will hurt you.”

“If you do not trust yourself, trust me. Let me be your light. Just a little while longer and we will reach Lothlórien.”

Estel looked at me with an almost vacant stare. “I do not know why you believe to find our salvation there.”

My truthful answer should have been: “I do not know either, but we have no other option left. If we do not find answers and healing there, I fear all will be lost.” I could not say that to him, of course, so I settled for the next best thing: “Because I refuse to let the story end here.”

“But maybe it does,” Estel said solemnly. “Maybe the story is supposed to end here, in this very moment and at this particular point in time.”

“I do not believe that. The first lesson you taught me is to never lose hope and to not stop fighting until the battle is truly over. This is not over yet, Estel. So do not give up hope.”

I stood, indicating that I did not wish to talk further. Talking would not help us at this point, it would only delay our arrival in Lothlórien. Therefore, I wanted to depart from here as soon as possible.

I held his clothes out to him and helped him dress while he let his arms be moved without further comment. When I slipped his arms into the shirt I had dug out of my pack, he paused and looked closely at the garment.

“That is my shirt.” He was clearly surprised. “I did not think you still had it.”

“Of course I still have it. It is my good luck charm. I always carry it with me.”

He sniffed the cloth. “It smells of you.” He inhaled more deeply and smiled slighty. My heart skipped a beat.

“I admit to wearing it from time to time. But you can have it back. It seems you have more need of a shirt than I at the moment.”

He shook his head decisively. “I will only borrow it.”

He had worn the shirt when we had left Rivendell to ride with the rangers for the first time. It had been blue once, but time had taken its toll and now it was grey, having lost most of its colour. The crest of Rivendell had been stitched into the lapel and throughout the years I had taken care to stitch every hole.

On his first day with the rangers, he had exchanged his elvish clothes for the practical and simple clothes of his kin. Somehow, the shirt had ended up in my pack and he had never requested that I return it.

The memory seemed to lighten his mood a bit, but even that did not last long. While I broke camp Estel slowly made his way over to the horses to greet them, but Mouse put back his ears in agitation and snorted nervously. The commotion alerted me and with sad eyes I watched how Estel tried to soothe the spooked horse with a few words. Mouse would have none of it and he refused to be calmed. He pranced around and threw his head back when Estel tried to stroke his head. I had never seen Estel’s phlegmatic horse this agitated and it saddened me to know what caused the horse’s nervousness.

I saw his shoulders slump before he gave up and stepped back from the gelding. I walked up to him in the hopes of comforting his troubled mind, but he shook off my affectionate gesture. “He always had good instincts,” he said gruffly.

Even Eadie seemed unhappy when Estel approached her. She was nervous and white started to appear in her eyes. However, I had trained her myself and she trusted my judgement. In the end, she could be convinced to carry us both once more. Estel made no further comment regarding the mood of the horses. He simply settled in front of me, his whole posture stiff.

I had never been to Lothlórien, but was certain that we should soon approach its northern border. It had been part of my education as an elfling to study the geography of Middle Earth. I had taken a liking to the subject and knew most of the maps in my father’s study by heart. Such knowledge should never be underestimated and at the moment I was rather thankful I could navigate the terrain with certainty.

It was already afternoon when we neared the Golden Wood. The area we had been riding through had offered only sparse vegetation; mostly grasslands and bushes interspersed with a copse of trees from time to time. But now I could see a treeline up ahead and felt we were close to our destination.

“Lothlórien is not far off, I believe.” I nodded in the direction where I suspected Lothlórien to be. “I think I see trees ahead.”

Estel looked up and squinted. “I see nothing.” He made it sound as if it was a matter of belief whether Lothlórien was ahead or not.

Anger flared in my belly. I tried so hard to be strong for him, to be the one he could lean on. He, in return, seemed to have given up already. And that was not what we had decided on.

“Take heart, Estel.” I shook him lightly. “Remember what you promised me. You said you would try, you would not give up. I still hold you to that promise. Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed,” he answered, but I shook my head.

“Between us, nothing has changed. Why is it so hard for you to believe that?”

Estel shuddered as if cold, but I could still feel this unnatural heat coming off him. “I have always admired you for your strength,” he said. “There is only darkness around me now, but you shine your light into that darkness. I will try harder to search that light within me.”

“Whether you search for it or not, it will always be there. My light and my love are always there with you. Have faith, meleth.” I tried to wrap us both in my love, knowing that my strength was not spent in vain.

About half an hour later, even Estel could see the forest loom ahead of us. He had grown increasingly restless while riding. I assumed his fidgeting was either caused by nervousness or pain, but when the grasslands gave way to a light wood, his agitation started to worry me.

“Estel?” I said in question when I noticed that his breathing was becoming laboured.

“Something is wrong,” he panted and his body began to shake.

“Are you in pain?” _Let this be his wound_ , I whispered to myself. _Let this not be the beast!_

Estel shook his head and my heart sank. He slumped forward suddenly, against Eadie’s neck and the startled horse did a jump forwards. Estel’s hands were tangled in her mane and he breathed heavily while his fingers grasped the reins tightly.

“Curse it!” I mumbled under my breath and took a hold of Estel’s shoulders, hoping to right his seat once more. Eadie was unhappy with the commotion taking place upon her back and she drew back her ears, giving a sharp whinny and prancing sideways.

“Get away from me,” Estel forced out in a voice that was barely his own. Fear crept up my spine. Would I witness a repetition of last night? I had not been there to see what had triggered the wolf, so I knew not what signs to look for. I had no choice but to trust his judgement in this.

I dismounted and drew Estel down with me. I did not have a chance to step away from him, because the moment his feet touched the ground he scrambled away from. When he looked up from his crouched position, his right arm clutching his wounded shoulder, I saw his eyes burn with a yellow fire once again.

He growled, and this animalistic sound coming from my beloved’s mouth made my skin crawl. It was frightening to see him struggle against himself as if he was fighting an enemy none beside him could see.

He lunged for me, but then seemed to reign himself in at once and stepped back once more. “Leave,” he forced out and the word sounded garbled as if he was speaking a language he was not familiar with.

I knew not how to help him fight this. “Calm down,” I tried to placate him in a soothing voice. My hands were raised slightly, showing my palms. With effort, I forced myself to take a step in his direction. “Shh, all is well,” I tried once again, but my words seemed to have no effect whatsoever.

To make matters worse, two elves suddenly stepped out of the woods about fifty yards behind Estel. They were holding their bows drawn and sighted in on the man.

“What brings you to the Golden Wood?” the taller one asked, his stance unwavering.

Estel turned at the noise and growled at the newcomers. And then time suddenly slowed down. It must have been mostly instinct that told me he was about to attack the two elves. He turned fully and the rage written plainly across his face must have been proof enough that he did not mean them well.

I screamed a warning: to Estel to alert him to the danger, and to the elves to prevent them from shooting. But it was for naught and in horror I saw how the taller elf drew his bow, sighted in on Estel’s heart and let the arrow fly.

My scream turned into one of terror.

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the Depeche Mode song “Freestate”.




**Translations:**  
meleth – love

ada – father

gaur – werewolf

Tol-in-Gaurhoth – Isle of Werewolves


	11. Some Kind of Sanctuary

# 11\. Some Kind of Sanctuary

The instinct to protect my beloved took over and I raced forward, intent on reaching Estel before the arrow did. He turned to look at me, frowning in confusion, but in that moment I was already upon him. I pushed against him and my momentum threw us both to the ground. I heard the arrow whistle past above us before it was drilled into the earth with a heavy thump. Knowing the danger had passed, I dared to breathe again.

Our fall had been quite forceful and I looked down at Estel’s body beneath me to ask whether he was hurt. I did not get the chance. His eyes were back to their normal light-grey. Their glassy stare held onto me and I saw his gaze waver.

“Estel,” I called, my hands frantically travelling his body in search of any new wounds. He choked on a word that could have turned into my name, but in the end was nothing more than a pained moan. A light flickered in his eyes before it was snuffed out and his gaze lost what little focus it still had. His mind slipped away where I could not reach and I felt his body go limp beneath me.

“No, no!” I tried to revive him, but he stayed lost to the world around him. His pulse was strong and quick beneath my fingertips. Taking that as a good sign I breathed a sigh of relief. I lifted his head into my lap and stroked his hair, more to calm my own racing heart than to comfort Estel. My fingers threaded through his hair and that was when I found a growing bump on the back of his head. My gaze went to the spot were Estel had fallen and I noticed that a stone protuded from the grass. His forceful fall unto such unyielding surface had caused him to pass out.

“The fates are against us, my love,” I lamented, rocking us both back and forth. I hoped he would wake soon, but feared his frail health would keep him unconscious far longer than was normal.

I had all but forgotten about the two Galadhrim, when someone loudly cleared his throat. My head shot up and I saw two elves standing next to me, casually holding their longbows. Had the situation been different I would have marvelled at the craftsmenship of the weapons, but I had other concerns right now.

“Mae govannen,” said the one whose arrow had caused this whole mess. My ire rose.

“Well met, indeed”, I answered in a voice laced with sarcasm. “I find the hospitality in these woods rather lacking. You almost kill Lord Elrond’s foster son and _afterwards_ you come and introduce yourselves!”

The elf was startled, either by my temper or the realization who the human in my arms was, and had the decency to look panicked for a moment before his face returned to the blank expression he had worn upon greeting me.

“So the human lives?” He looked at Estel with the detached interest of someone observing an unknown species. Maybe Estel truly was the first human he laid eyes on.

“He does, barely.” My finger brushed against the bump on his head again, glad that it was not bleeding.

My confirmation ended that train of thought for the elf. He lifted his eyes from Estel and addressed me as if I was not having my arms full of unconscious human. “I think we started off on the wrong foot. Let me introduce ourselves.” He pointed to the elf next to him. “That is Tandollen and I am Haldir. We guard the Northern border of Lady Galadriel’s realm.”

Haldir’s companion inclined his head, but did not speak. “I am Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood. My companion is Estel Elrondion of Rivendell. We seek the lady’s counsel.”

“My lord.” Haldir bowed studiously, obviously impressed by my title. “Let us escort you, it would be an honour. We have heard much about the deeds of Mirkwood’s prince.”

I raised a brow at that, wondering what tales might have reached these lands. My curiosity would have to wait, though, for we had more pressing matters. “Do you have horses? My companion’s wounds are grave and they need tending.”

“We are on foot,” Haldir said and both our eyes went to Mouse, who was oblivious to his surroundings, enjoying the succulent grass in Galadriel’s forest.

“We will be faster on horseback...” I let my voice trail off, hoping the elves would come to the same conclusion. They did, but Haldir was none to pleased by the prospect of riding double with his companion – on a horse like Mouse no less. A useless discussion about the adequate horse for a Galadhrim ensued, followed by a list of all of Mouse’s obvious faults, but in the end the matter was decided by Tandollen, who spoke up for the first time.

“There is no reason to be vain,” he said to no one in particular. “I have no experience in these matters, but your friend looks _sick_.” He said the word carefully, as if he was unsure about its meaning. “We will ride your horse, it will shorten our journey considerably.”

“Thank you,” I said, stressing both words to let Tandollen know how heartfelt the sentiment was.

Haldir relented, realizing that he could not back down after his companion had already agreed to ride Mouse. We mounted in silence and headed further south, to Caras Galadhon, the heart of Lothlórien.

At first we rode silently, none of us knowing what to say to the other. Haldir seemed to look everywhere but at Estel, whereas Tandollen threw us worried glances whenever there was as much as a hitched breath from Estel. I was concerned as well, because I felt he should have woken by now.

There was a moan of pain from Estel when Eadie stumbled on a tree root, which jostled his wound. Haldir’s patience was spent and he threw me a glare. “What is wrong with him?” he asked in an exasperated voice.

 _Oh, where to begin?_ I thought to myself. “He was bitten by a wolf. The wound was infected, he is wrecked by fever and he has not eaten anything substantial in the last ten days.” I stopped there. The two elves did not need to know what else had transpired.

“Is he dying?” For the first time I heard something like interest in Haldir’s voice.

“No!” I said, maybe a little too forcefully. “No,” I repeated in a calmer voice and could not help kissing the crown of Estel’s hair. Haldir’s left eyebrow shut upwards.

“You are bonded?” he asked incrediously, sounding as if he had reason to be personally affronted by the mere idea.

“No,” I answered, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice. “We are not bonded. We are lovers.”

That gave him something to think about and our little group fell silent once more. Tandollen offered me his water skin and I wet Estel’s hot face in the hope of reviving him. There was no change in Estel’s condition, but still I was touched by Tandollen’s consideration.

Now it was Haldir who threw us glances whenever he thought I was looking elsewhere. He seemed to assess the whole situation under a new light. Maybe my confession that Estel and I were lovers would help him lose his indifference towards the ranger, but if I had hoped Haldir would offer me an apology for nearly killing Estel I was sadly mistaken.

We spent the afternoon on horseback and the shadows were already growing long when we finally reached Caras Galadhon. Haldir stopped Mouse when the vista opened up before us. “Welcome to Lothlórien, my lord.” He sounded official, but he could not completely erase the pride from his voice. It was evident that he loved his home and was delighted to be the one who could show me its beauty.

And beautiful it was. The forest was dipped into twilight, giving the elven city an eerie glow. The moon was just rising, the round disk climbing steadily above the treeline where it shone brightly, illuminating the world below. The view was breathtaking and I regretted that Estel was not able to enjoy it as well. The trees grew tall and straight here, their trunks thick and strong. Only few buildings were on the ground, instead talans had been built between tree branches while narrow stairs wound up the trees in endless circles, giving the impression climbing them would lead one to the heavens above. A small stream bubbled merrily, glinting like pure mithril in the moonlight. Elves walked along invisible paths. Some were talking, some were singing and their pure voices filled the approaching night with a soothing melody.

This was a different kind of beauty from Rivendell, which was serence and open, and Mirkwood, whose beauty held a hard egde and was difficult to find. Lothlórien exuded tranquility and my conviction grew that Estel would find healing here.

Haldir and Tandollen lead us deeper into the settlement. We stopped under a mallorn whose roots stretched out in a wide circle. Haldir seemed to think for a moment before he came to decision and dismounted.

He walked over to me and looked up. “I shall lead you to the guest chambers and then inform the lord and lady of your arrival. Let me help you with your charge.”

He held out his hands to receive Estel’s prone body from me. It would have been impolite to ignore his offer, so I gently lowered Estel from the horse into the elf’s waiting arms.

Haldir held the man a little awkwardly while he peered into Estel’s slack face. “He is very warm,” he noted. “Is that normal for humans?”

“He runs a fever,” I answered Haldir’s question, nearly amused by his inquisiteness.

“Mhmm, fever.” Haldir frowned, not quite sure what to make of my answer.

“It is a human ailment,” Tandollen supplied, sounding very studious. He looked in my direction, hoping for my agreement.

“Well, Estel told me once it feels a bit like the first stages of blood poisoning, when you are hot all over and your senses start to leave you.”

Both Haldir and Tandollen nodded and I felt they had had enough of _meet-the-unknown-human_ for today. I took Estel from Haldir’s arms and indicated that he should precede me.

We climbed the winding stairs until we reached the first circle of branches. They supported an intricate building running all around the tree at this level. It was partly open to the elements, causing the tree to grow in and around the building, which gave me the impression of being inside as well as outside at the same time. The talan was divided into different chambers. Haldir led us into a spacious bedroom where I laid Estel down on the bed. The piece of furniture was huge and Estel’s sick and thin body almost disappeared between the sheets. I rearranged his limbs until I felt he was comfortable and then covered him with a blanket.

The two elves stood to the side, observing me in silence. When I was done, Haldir stepped forward and offered his arm in a warrior greeting. “I am sorry for what happened in the forest, I should not have acted so rashly.” He looked down at Estel. “I hope the man will find healing here.”

I knew a peace offering when I saw one. I gripped his forearm. “Thank you.”

“We will take care of the horses and inform the lord and lady,” Tandollen said in his quiet manner and then they were both gone and Estel and I were alone once again.

The talan was quite large and felt airy and comfortable. On our way in we had walked through a living room, complete with a writing desk and a few armchairs to sit in. Wine and clematis were growing outside as well as in the talan and even though the large pink blossoms of the clematis were closing slightly for the night they still filled the room with a rich fragrance. The bedroom was equally beautiful, yet practical. Aside from the bed, which took up most of the space, there was a small settee with two chairs in one corner and a drawer in the other. Across from me was a picture window that led to a small balcony. Even from my position on the bed I could see that the window offered a breathtaking view of the elven city. Little lights moved through the night and I imagined they marked the places where elves had their homes. The lights flickered and moved, on the ground and high up in the trees, and for a moment I felt as if I sat amidst the stars.

I sat next to Estel on the bed, tightly holding his hand, and tried to decide whether I should get one of the chairs when two elves entered. I recognized them at once, even if I had never met either of them.

Male and female they were, both clothed in flowing robes of a light-grey colour. Lord Celeborn’s attire was simple yet elegant, something that put practicality over beauty. His face was serious while he looked upon us and he stopped right within the room.

His wife, though, took my breath away. Her whole appearance was one of surreal beauty, as if the world itself was unable to contain something so fair. Her skin was pale and transluscient, glowing with an inner light that instantly drew me to its warmth. Her pale blue eyes were compassionate and darted quickly around the room, assessing the situation in a matter of moments. They say the eyes are the portal to one’s soul and Galadriel did not hide hers, but it was impossible for me to understand all aspects of her being. She was simply too old and wise that a young elf like me could hope to grasp her personality.

Waves of golden hair cascaded down her back, flowing freely without the aid of pins or bands. Together with the light grey dress and the delicate feet I could see under the hem she appeared like one who had danced under the moonlight only moments ago.

I gaped at her while coherent thought had fled for the moment. She seemed used to that reaction to her person and waited patiently for me to gather my wits. However, even when I felt able to talk with her without stumbling over my words, I was at a loss how to greet someone as beautious as her.

The lady saved me from embarassment, thankfully. She held a trey with food and drink in her arms, something that had totally escaped me before, and set it down on the table. That a lady like her would lower herself to wait upon me, surprised me. It seemed she was none to stand upon protocol. She had yet to comment upon my sitting dumb-founded on the bed, instead of bowing to her.

“Suilad, young prince.” Her voice was quiet and melodious. “My heart is gladdened that we finally meet, even if it is under these circumstances.” Her gaze went to Estel’s prone form and her eyes went soft.

“You have your father’s features,” she stated while she walked over to the bed. She peered closely into my face and rested a finger against my temple. I felt something probe within my mind, gentle yet determined, and I knew I had to pass this test. I wanted to be found worthy by this lady.

“His determination, too,” she chuckled. “I could say _stubborn,_ but I will not.” She was amused and the finger on my temple drew small circles while her eyes held onto mine. “But you have your mother’s gentle heart. The perfect blend of your parents, I must say.”

She ended the contact and I felt dazed. Galadriel laughed once more, a string of pearly sounds that moved down my back like a lover’s hand. I shivered from the sensation.

Celeborn left his space by the entrance and laid a hand upon his wife’s shoulder. He had been so quiet and unmoving that I had all but forgotten his presence. “Leave the poor prince alone, my dear. You are confusing him.”

“I...” I realized that I had not yet spoken, a thing most impolite in my opinion. I felt I should say something, preferrably something profound, but words eluded me at the moment. It was only the knowledge that both elves had probably long ago guessed our purpose here that comforted me – a little at least.

“I thank you for your hospitality.” So much for being profound.

“No matter.” Galadriel waved my thanks away like a fly that was bothering her. “Take from the refreshments. I understand your journey was long ere you arrived here.”

I could not deny that the fruit and bread on the platter seduced me with their succulent colour and enticing smell. However, Estel needed to be seen to first.

Galadriel noticed my indecision and took the decision out of my hands. “Take from the platter what you like and sit with me on the bed. I will see what I can do for your beloved while you eat.”

She took my place on the bed while Celeborn stood next to her, his posture tall and imposing. Again, he had his hand on her schoulder and I had the impression that this was a common pose for them: Galadriel, dealing with whatever needed dealing with, and Celeborn at her back lending strength.

Galadriel peered into Estel’s slack face and her features softened. “So this is Elendil’s heir,” she said, her eyes taking in his features. “I believe Elrond chose well when he took it upon himself to raise him. He is strong, stronger than the ones who walked before him.” Her words gave me hope. “Yet he is faced with a fate none of them had to endure.” I gulped, hoping that she spoke of his destiny to become king and not of recent events.

Probing another’s mind seemed to be common for her. Her fingers rested against Estel’s temple and she closed her eyes in concentration. Silence descended upon the room and Galadriel’s serene face turned pale. Why did she not speak?

 _He hides from me, be patient_ , a voice in my head said and I jumped. Celeborn gave me a knowing look, but soon concentrated on his wife once more.

Her perusal stopped suddenly and she gathered her hands in her lap. She seemed deep in thought for a moment, but then shook free of what had occupied her mind and began to check Estel’s body. Galadriel lifted his eyelids and peered closely into his glazed eyes. Her hand trailed through Estel’s wild locks, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes. She fingered the bump on the back on his head and lifted his shirt to peruse the bandage covering the shoulder. At last she sighed and turned to me, her playful appearance all but gone.

“There is much darkness within his mind, threatening to drown him. What happened to him?”

I recounted the last ten days as accurately as possible. I told her of my dream, told her how I found Estel in that basement, told her how I had treated the wound – without much success. I told her how darkness had descended upon Estel’s mind. The only thing I did not tell her, was Estel’s attack. I could not speak of this, but it seemed Galadriel did not need spoken words.

“You are not telling me everything. That is all right, I will not force you. Your healing will only come from within yourself. And from him.” She looked at Estel.

“He wanted to die. He asked me to kill him.”

“You should have done so,” Celeborn spoke up. “Werewolves answer to Sauron alone. We cannot afford Gondor’s king to fall under his sway.”

I threw him a cold glare and feared that my hopes had been misplaced.

“Not yet,” Galadriel said enigmatigly. “I have seen what Elrond has seen – that Aragorn will be the one to bring Gondor to new splendour. That image has not vanished from my mind, it is still the future that I see.

“Take heart,” she advised. “He is still fighting. He is throwing himself against that darkness with all his remaining strength. In the end that will not be enough, but it will give us some time. As long as he holds on, there is still hope.”

“Then there is a way to reverse this?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Galadriel said thoughtfully. “There is not much we know about werewolves. And what we believe to know, does not necessarily apply to Aragorn’s case.”

“How so?” I asked. “I wrecked my brain, but I must admit that I could have been a little more attentive to my teachers when the First Age was discussed.”

She gave me a small smile, despite the serious situation. “The writings say Sauron took wolves and inhabited them with angry souls to do his bidding, but that is not what happened to Aragorn. Rather, it looks to be the other way round. In his case, a human body was inhabited by the soul of an angry wolf. At least, this is how I would interpret what happened to him. When he killed the other man, the wolf’s soul fled and searched for a new host. A host he found in Aragorn.

“Maybe Sauron himself had a part in this. Or maybe the alchemist you mentioned tempered with things that are better left alone. Though, it worries me that a human should be able to weave magic this powerful.” Her fingers still played with a curl of Estel’s hair and I wondered whether she noticed what she was doing.

“I understand.” I mulled over what she had said. “But how is this knowledge going to help Estel?”  
  
“Do not be hasty, young one. Much is still unclear where his future is concerned. I will have to ask my mirror. I will need to think.” She looked up at Celeborn and he nodded.

She stood from the bed. “The wound on his shoulder is healing, the pain should lessen soon. The bump on his head is not serious and he should wake soon. The fever, though, is nothing we can heal. Try to get him to drink. I will send Arwen, I know she would want to know of this.”

With that, both elves turned to leave. Before she drew the door closed behind her, Galadriel looked at me for a last time. “Be strong, young prince.”

 **Notes:**  
\- The chapter title comes from the song “Mutation” by Collide.

**Translation:**

mae govannen – well met

suilad – greetings


	12. Princess Kept the View

# 12\. Princess Kept the View

We were alone once more and I wondered how long we would have to wait for Galadriel’s decision. She had not made any promises, but she had been willing to try. No elf could claim to have lived longer in Middle Earth and none but a Maia could match her wisdom and knowledge. If she found no solution to this mystery, I feared I would lose Estel – and he would look to me to take his life. The thought alone made me feel physically ill, but I understood full well that Elendil’s heir could not be allowed to fall into darkness.

I tried not to think such dark thoughts, instead concentrating on the fact that we had reached our goal – we had been granted refuge in Lothlórien. Lady Galadriel had not been overly concerned about Estel’s bodily hurts. His body was finally on the mend. Now he just needed to wake – I wanted to witness him looking upon his new surroundings. I hoped finding himself in the Golden Wood would instill new hope in him as well.

There was a soft knock on the door, but before I could call out an “Enter”, the door was opened to reveal a lithe figure. A smile broke out on my face and I stood to greet our visitor without letting go of Estel’s hand. She would understand my reluctance to let go of him and there was no reason to stand upon protocol with her.

“Arwen!” I nodded at her, indicating that she should join me on the bed. “It is so good to see you.” She was not dressed in grey like Galadriel and Celeborn had been. Instead, she wore what fit her best: a dress of midnight blue with a multitude of stitchings in silver. It appeared as if she had plucked a piece of starlit sky from above to wear as a dress. She had always been beautiful, but she looked even more radiant than I remembered her.

Standing right inside the door, Arwen seemed undecided how to proceed. Her eyes darted to Estel’s unconscious form on the bed and I could see her need to help and care for him. Then she looked at me, obviously deciding that she should greet the one awake first. She sat with me on the bed and placed a loving kiss on my cheek.

“Legolas, I have missed you.” Her eyes fastened on Estel again and with a sad note she added, “and him as well.”

I relinquished my hold on his hand to her, knowing she would want this contact after not seeing him for nigh twenty years. She called him in a quiet voice and when he did not react, she lifted his hand to her mouth, kissing it lovingly.

“He will be well, I just know it,” Arwen said with determination. With any other elf I would have believed the statement to be wishful thinking. However, Arwen _knew_ things and it proved wise to trust her judgement. Of course, there was also the fact that I desperately _wanted_ to believe her.

“The Valar be willing...”

“Daernaneth will find a way. Estel only needs to hold on until then.” She gripped his hand tighter as if that alone would keep him with us. “He is so weak, I can hardly feel him,” she lamented.

“He will not leave,” I tried to comfort her and she nodded.

“You are right, he will not. I have asked for some of my remedies to be brought here. I will take care of his wounds.” Now she truly looked at me. “You, though, should rest.”

When I opened my mouth to protest she raised an eyebrow – a habit she had adopted from her father. “You are weary, Legolas. Your journey was long and arduous. You did not take care of yourself.” Her hand brushed against my cheek. “You did well, Estel is safe here. You need rest. This is not yet over and Estel needs you strong.”

I knew she spoke the truth; I was tired and Estel was in good hands, but it was difficult to let go so suddenly. I sighed. “I am tired, I admit. But I fear I am too tense to sleep.”

“Then I shall help you.” Arwen took my hand and drew me up with her. She led me over to the settee and I fell into the plush softness of its cushions. She knelt in front of me, still holding my hands.

“Let go of your fears,” she whispered and my body began to feel too heavy to sit up anymore. I laid down in exhaustion, placing my head on the armrest and drawing up my knees. Arwen’s gaze was as deep as the sea when she looked at me and I felt my thoughts swirl and dissolve. I blinked my eyes tiredly, hardly able to keep them open anymore.

“I hate it when you do that,” I said with a voice already heavy with sleep, but she only smiled and kissed my brow.

“I will wake you should anything happen,” Arwen answered and her mind once again pushed me further into the arms of sleep. The last thing I felt was a blanket covering my body before sleep overtook me.

My dreams were dark. I found myself surrounded by a pack of wolves. Each was huge and black and closing in on me, drawing the circle around me tighter by the moment. The beasts growled and snapped their fangs and once the moon broke through the clouds overhead I could see that every wolf bore Estel’s face.

My panic grew, because I could find no weapon on me, nothing to defend my life with, and I was certain that I would die any minute. The enraged wolves would tear my body to pieces until not even my closest kin would be able to identify me. I cried my fear and frustration to the heavens, but the wolves advanced without pause. When fangs closed around my calf, biting deep into the flesh, I fell to my knees. More beasts attacked me and soon I was surrounded by them. I felt tongues licking along my neck, felt hot breath puff across my chest, felt hair tickle against the inside of my thigh and then it was not a wolf who entered me without preamble, but Estel. He pushed his hard length into my abused body and I felt my soul shatter again and again.

A scream was at the tip of my tongue when I woke, but if I made any noise it was swallowed by the thunder rolling overhead. The thunderstorm had finally broken and when my senses returned to me I could hear the quick staccato of raindrops landing on the talan and the tree. I was lying still for a few precious moments, trying to shake off the memory of the dream, and listened how the weather raged around me. It felt cleansing somehow and I breathed deeply of the fresh air that was blowing in from outside.

True alertness only came when I heard Estel speaking quietly. “Arwen,” he whispered in a voice that sounded tired and strained. Underlying that there was joy and awe. He was clearly surprised to find himself so suddenly in her presence. Estel had his back to me, so I could not see his face, but Arwen looked up and caught my eye. There was a silent question on her face.

I shook my head in answer, not willing to give away my presence just yet. I knew she was worried sick. I knew just as well that Estel loved her without measure. It felt right to give them a moment alone.

“I hoped you would be here,” Estel said, squeezing her hand tightly. I imagined the look of adoration he always wore in her presence adorning his face right now. She had been his sun when he was a child and he had never truly grown out of worshipping the ground she walked on.

I had not been there to witness it, of course, but I could imagine it easily: How the twins had brought the barely two-year old Estel to Rivendell. How Elrond had taken him as his own son. How all three males had capitulated when faced with the task of raising a vibrant young boy. Their cry for help had caused Arwen to leave Lothlórien and head home. In time, she became Estel’s mother, his sister and later his friend. His father had taught him history and the healing arts, had instilled ethics and a sense of right and wrong in him. His brothers had taught him to fight, to track, to hunt and to kill. However, it was Arwen who had taught him to appreciate the beauty of a sunrise, who had sat patiently with him to explain rhyme and rhythm, who had led his hand when he drew. Estel would be a different man without Arwen’s influence and how could I have loved him then?

“How do you feel?” she asked Estel, laying a hand upon his forehead, probably checking whether the fever had lessened yet.

“Better upon seeing you,” Estel answered, but Arwen did not take the bait.

“Do not try to charm me with that sweet tongue of yours. You know quite well it does not work.” She wore a mock frown and Estel actually chuckled at the reprimand. My heart lightened upon hearing the sound. Maybe he truly felt better.

She took a pitcher from the nightstand and poured some water into a glass. I must have missed an elf coming in and bringing her things, because on a table beside the bed I could see pots and pans, scissors and bandages. She had taken care of his hurts just as she had promised.

She slipped her hand behind his head and helped him drink some water. Estel took a few sips, exhausting himself with that little movement. She let him lie back when he started to pant from the exertion.

“How am I?” Estel asked in return and Arwen sighed.

“It is not the wound that worries me,” she answered. “Legolas took good care of it, it is healing as well as can be expected in such short amount of time. Does it still hurt you?”

There was no answer from Estel, but Arwen must have read something in his face, because she said, “I thought as much.” There was another sigh from her.

“Legolas told us what happened.” She tried another tack and Estel turned his head away from her. Arwen would have none of it and she gently forced him to look at her again. “Do not refuse my love nor my understanding, for you have both. A great evil is preying upon you, but I know _dearnaneth_ is trying to find a way to help you as we speak. And if she has set her mind upon something, she will not give up before she has achieved it. You just have to hold out.” She stressed each word of that last sentence, as if she feared Estel might forget them otherwise. “Fight the darkness and it will not claim you.”

From my point on the settee I could see his body shake before he was embraced by her, her long and slender body covering his on the bed, her arms snaking around his shoulders and her cheek resting against his head. He turned into her in surrender and I heard a sob escape his lips. After a moment it was followed by a whole current of silent cries.

They stayed in that tight embrace and Estel cried for all he had lost. The first tentative sobs into her dark hair turned into harsh cries, painful sounds that pierced my heart. I longed to be in Arwen’s stead and hold him tight, but I did not dare intrude upon them. I remained on the settee, my eyes glued to the two forms on the bed until the crying and shaking slowly subsided and Arwen moved, looking at me and inviting me to join them.

I was up in a moment and the movement disturbed Estel’s reveree in his sister’s arms. He broke free from the embrace, his eyes searching the room. When they landed on me I was already next to the bed, ready to touch and soothe him.

“Lassë,” he greeted me and I could not resist kissing him. Arwen retired to a chair she had drawn near the bed while her observant eyes never left us.

“You did it, you brought us here. Thank you.” For the first time, his eyes looked around the room. Truly looked, taking in the apparent beauty of our lodgings. From outside nightlife could be heard. Crickets were chirping, creating a blanket of sound upon which other things could be heard. A nightingale was filling the night with song not far off and the elaborate melody had a soothing tone to it. I could even make out quiet chatter, though I doubted Estel could hear that. His face was enraptured while he intently looked outside, trying to see as much as possible of the moon-illumindated forest from his position on the bed.

“It is beautiful,” he said in a quiet voice as if anything louder might destroy the illusion.

“It is,” Arwen said. “Why do you think I spend all my time here?”

“Actually, I always thought you had a secret sweetheart in Lothlórien,” Estel quipped, but the sudden blush on her cheeks made him pause. She regained her composure quickly, waving a hand in dismissal. “You were always quite imaginative.”

“So...” He rebuffed, daring her to tell him that was a bad thing. Arwen, always one for fine diplomatic talk, steered clear of the subject.

“So, I am glad you finally made your way here. I just wish you were well enough for a walk through the woods. I always imagined how I would show you all my favourite spots.”

I saw Estel swallow and then his gaze turned distant, allowing his mind to take stock of his hurts.

“My mind is more at ease here,” he said in my direction, knowing I would understand what he meant.

“That is good,” I agreed, but Arwen seemed unconvinced.

“Lothlórien soothes the mind, but I fear it will not be able to quell the darkness growing inside you.”

“What is it that I face?” I admired Estel’s courage to ask such a straightforward question, but at the same time I wished he had kept quiet.

“I...” Arwen was reluctant to speak of these things. “Maybe you should speak with dearnaneth about that.”

“But I am speaking with you.” The determination in his voice was proof that he had made up his mind. Estel would have an answer to his question, and he would have it now.

Apparently, Arwen came to the same conclusion. “I talked to daernaneth and she is deeply worried. We know almost nothing about werewolves, not even daernaneth has much knowledge about them. She says she had not even known they still roamed Arda. But we do know that they are associated with the Dark Lord, that it was Sauron who created the first wolves. It is her fear that you being infected with that curse means the Dark Lord is gaining strength once again.”

Estel looked at her, unblinking. He was silent, taking the time to process what she had just said. “Are you suggesting that this curse has been placed upon me on purpose?”

Arwen shook her head in frustration. “We know not. At least from what Legolas has told us, it does not seem this way. It is certain though that werewolves are wholly evil. You both witnessed the wolf’s ferociousness.” Here Arwen paused, knowing that both Estel and I would understand full well what her veiled words were alluding to. “If this curse runs its course, you will fall into evil, Estel. You will be lost to us.”

Her eyes swam with tears, but she was lady enough not to let them fall. Estel noticed her distress and caught one lone tear with his fingertip, just as it was hovering upon her eyelash. “I am sorry to be such a burden,” he said sadly. “I could never see you cry.”

“You are no burden,” Arwen said vehemently. “There is still time before the worst shall happen.”

“I will not betray you,” Estel vowed with a serious voice. “I took a vow when I began riding with Ada’s patrols. I took another when I joined the rangers – that I would fight for all that is good in this world and that I would give my life in the battle against darkness. I shall not go against my pledge. Werewolves may be Sauron’s creation, but they do not share his immortality.” He let the last sentence hang, knowing we would come to our own conclusions. I swallowed hard, knowing he would want me to take his life. I was unable able to hold his gaze, instead I took his hand and squeezed it.

Arwen caught on just as quickly. “Do not talk like that,” she admonished. “Not yet. Darkness has not yet claimed you.”

Estel did not contradict her words, but it was obvious that he did not share her hope. “My love, if you cannot hold on to hope for yourself, do it for me. I am not yet ready to let you go.”

“Do not think I want to die,” he said vehemently. “I must have faith that this is not the fate the Valar had planned for me. I must have faith that Galadriel will find a way to counteract this curse. But should this doom be mine, then I want to be prepared. I want to choose the hour and the manner of my end. I want to leave when my mind is still my own, when darkness has not yet won. Promise me only this, for now.”

To die was the doom of all men, there was nothing I could do against it. Estel was only asking me to aid him in choosing the manner of his death. And truly, could I deny him this? Had I been in his stead, I would have asked for the same: To die seeing, knowing it was still my own choice to leave.

I nodded, but my heart was heavy. “I understand, but that hour is not yet upon us. Promise me that you will not give up for as long as there is still hope.”

“Never,” Estel answered and I could see that he meant it.

“Then I am glad.” I knew, I owed him a promise in return.

~*~

We spent some time talking, but soon I saw sleep tugging at Estel’s mind again. Arwen urged him to drink some water before we let him rest, his eyes closing instantly and his breath evening out only moments later. Arwen and I relocated to the settee, talking quietly as to not disturb Estel’s sleep.

The normality of the situation felt surreal: We sat comfortably, eating and drinking the rest of the refreshments Galadriel had brought, and talked. We had not seen each other for many years and there were countless news to exchange. I could almost forget the reason for our presence had not Estel’s sleeping body been lying a few feet from me.

“His sleep is unrestful,” Arwen observed. She stood and went over to the bed, resting her hand upon his forehead. When I came to stand next to her I saw the sweat on Estel’s brow . He frowned in his sleep, moving restlessly under the light cover. I could see his eyes move rapidly under the closed lids. His lips parted to mumble words that neither Arwen nor me were able to understand.

A swift wind was chasing clouds across the night sky, veiling the moon only to reveal its pale disk minutes later. To me the sudden changes of dark and light felt oppressive and my mind was ill at ease. Even in sleep, Estel seemed to feel the same, because he did not calm until long after midnight. We both sat next to his bed, trying to comfort the sleeping man and soothe his dreams. Nothing would work, though, and I was almost glad to see him wake in the dead of night had his eyes not held this unsettling yellow glimmer I had come to fear.

From Arwen’s sudden intake of breath I could tell that she had noticed the change as well, but I did not have the time to say anything because just in that moment a wave some unknown power envelopped us. It came with such sudden strength that all air was being forced out of my lungs.

“What was that?” I managed to ask in a breathless whisper. I looked at Estel in horror, only to see his eyelids flutter and reveal nothing but white for a moment.

“Magic,” Arwen answered in a tight voice. “Dark magic.”

It came again, strong like an invisible storm, and I felt choked as if a hand had closed around my throat. I tried to tell myself that it was only my imagination, that the sensation was not real, but it helped not, because for as long as the magic ebbed and flowed I had to fight for every breath.

The air in the room was thick with it and the magic swirled around me, tugging at my skin and my hair and my thoughts. I felt tired and heavy suddenly and only came back to myself when Estel’s hand grabbed mine and squeezed it tightly, almost painfully. At once my focus was on him again, and I noticed that he was panting heavily. He drew in big gulps of air, his mouth open wide while his eyes roamed the room wildly, glazed and blazing in an unsettling amber.

“Estel!” I called him again and again, trying to get his attention in the hope of calming him down, but his grip on my hand only tightened and I feared my bones would shatter from the sheer force he used.

“What is happening?” There was panic in my voice, because I feared that despite what Galadriel and Arwen had said our time was running out while I sat by doing absolutely nothing.

“Darkness is luring him,” Arwen answered and her hand gripped Estel’s wounded shoulder tightly, trying to hurt him back into reality. “I think ...” Here she paused, searching for the right expression. “I think the wolf is trying to break free,” she finished.

“The wolf?” Only then did I remember that I had not seen him change last night. Estel had been reluctant to talk about what had happened minutes before the wolf had _appeared_ and so I had no way of knowing whether he had suffered through this before.

I grabbed Estel’s hale shoulder when a seizures shook his body violently. He bent his head backwards and I saw the muscles in his neck strain. I forced his shoulder down to prevent him from rolling off the bed, but he thrashed wildly and I had only one hand – the other was still held in his.

“We cannot hold him,” Arwen cried from the other side of the bed and then she let go suddenly, all but running from the room. “I will be back,” she called without turning around.

I dogded a swing from Estel’s left arm and tugged at my hand, hoping Estel would relinquish his hold so I might help him better. By now I basically sat on him, feeling his muscles tense and his body buck beneath me. His eyes were still open, still wild and I hoped desperately that he was not going through this consciously.

A growl left his mouth then; there is no other way I can describe the sound he made. No human could produce a sound like this for it was purely animalistic. He began to choke and I feared he would swallow his tongue, but in that moment Arwen came back, another elf in tow.

They both swept into the room, each grabbing one of Estel’s flailing limbs and started to bind him forcefully to the bed with rope. Estel fought them every step of the way, straining against the bonds until his wrists were raw and bloody, but in the end they prevailed and had him pinned securely to the bed.

Only then did I dare to take my eyes from Estel's still fighting body. I saw Haldir standing next to Arwen, a look of pity on his face. Arwen stood close to him, as if his presence might help her bear this situation.

Estel still fought vehemently against the bonds, but he had no chance of freeing himself from the elven rope. I took his bound hand again and felt him grip back tightly, despite the fact that he seemed absolutely oblivious to our presence in the room.

“That human is full of suprises.” Haldir’s voice held sarcastic amusement and I shot him a loathing glare. In return, he only shrugged and bowed to the lady in the room before he left without another word.

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the Jimi Hendrix song “All Along the Watchtower”.

  * Werewolves in general lore, as well as in Tolkien’s mythology, are mortal. Whereas they are usually killed with silver in your average werewolf flick, Tolkien does not name a special weapon needed to kill them. I decided to make them stronger and more resilient, but this is nothing more than an educated guess.

  * Magic tends to be described as an invisible entity in contemporary fantasy. I took my cue from Charlaine Harris' “Southern Vampire”-series.




**Translation:**

daernaneth - grandmother


	13. Kiss me Now and Leave me Never

#  13\. Kiss Me Now and Leave Me Never

Seeing Estel bound like a criminal, fighting mindlessly against the bonds that held him, forced tears to my eyes. Arwen came to stand next to me and placed her arm around my shoulder. Together we stood next to Estel’s bed and took comfort from each other while we watched Estel struggle helplessly.

A very long time ago, when I had travelled to Laketown on one of my rare diplomatic missions, I had seen a man catch a wild horse. The poor animal had fought vehemently against the rope around its neck and when man and beast finally arrived in Laketown, the horse’s coat had been lathered in sweat. It was put in a box in the common stable, but the next morning it had to be put out of its misery. It had run against the stable wall so long and with such force that its right foreleg was broken. I could see the same reckless determination in Estel now, who fought against the rope even thought his strength was clearly spent. As long as it was still dark outside he would tug at the rope and twist his body in the vain hope of freeing himself. Only when the sky was lightening and the first birds began their song did he quieten down. He became very still and his breathing deepened until both Arwen and I supposed he was simply sleeping.

Where the rope had touched his bare skin it was chafed and bloody. We did not yet dare take off the bonds, but we cleaned and bound his wrists and ankles, hoping it would at least lessen his discomfort once he woke. That was also when Arwen noticed the small cut on my hand, the one Estel had accidentally dealt me the night before. It had closed by now and would be all but gone in a few days, but Arwen still insisted that a soothing salve should be applied.

Estel had not regained consciousness after the attack, which was what I had wished for most. Because now we knew not whether his mind was still his own or whether his defences had been overrun by the powerful magic that had filled the room earlier.

“It is not yet time,” Arwen tried to soothe me. “Do you not feel it?” I envied her her gift of foresight, for all that was in my mind was dread and fear.

My thoughts returned to Galadriel, wondering what she was doing right now. Had she found a way to reverse the curse? Or would she give us bad news once she returned? When would she come? How long would we have to wait until we knew whether Estel could be saved? That last thought made me shudder, for I feared I would be unable to endure another night like this.

“She will come,” Arwen said into my thoughts and I wondered whether I had spoken my musings aloud. “The sun has not even risen yet, give her a few more hours.”

“Of course,” I answered distractedly and stood, pacing the room in the hope that this simple task might calm my nerves.

We spent the morning mostly in silence. Thinking back to that day now, I feel as if this was the longest morning in my life. It seemed as if time would not pass at all – the sunrise was beautiful but endless and the hours stretched, leaving me with too much leisure to think and fret.

It was almost midday when Galadriel returned, once again entering the talan without knocking. She wore the same clothes as upon meeting us yesterday – suggesting she had neither rested nor changed -, but her stride was full of unconscious grace. I meant to see a hard line around her eyes, a sign of tiredness or deep thought, but as soon as the realization crossed my mind the radiance of her face increased tenfold. After blinking twice I was unable to see any blemish on her skin. She was beautiful, ethereal, perfect.

“Young prince,” she greeted and took my hands as if we had known each other for many yéni. “I see your night was unrestful.” Her gaze fell upon the rope binding Estel to the bed. She relinquished her hold on my hand and instead traced the coarse rope and the bandages on Estel’s wrist as if she was interested in the texture of the material. When she failed to get a reaction from the sleeping man, she tapped her finger against his temple. The motion was gentle, as if she was standing upon a stranger’s door begging for entrance. Estel, however, would not be roused. Eventually, the lady turned back to me with a sigh.

“Time seems to move faster than I had anticipated. His will to fight is slowly waning.”

“But...!” I wanted to interject that both she and Arwen had promised me the opposite, but Galadriel held up a slender hand to silence me.

“It is of no matter.” A smile broke on Galadriel’s face, of the like my mother always wore when she knew she had found just the perfect present for my begetting day. “I might have found a way to save him. Join me outside.”

Without waiting for my answer, she turned and left the room. I was stunned for a moment and my heart began to beat wildly. This was what I had hoped for, coming here had not be in vain. Galadriel knew of a way to save Estel’s life. The story would indeed not end here.

All would be well.

I must have stood motionless for quite some time, getting lost in the thought that this would find a good end, because Arwen was giving me a slight push in the direction of the door when I became aware of my surroundings once again. “One does not keep daernaneth waiting,” she admonished, but her voice was devoid of any rebuke.

“No, of course not,” I mumbled and looked back at Estel.

“I will sit with him,” Arwen said. “Now go.”

A small balcony was running around our lodgings and Galadriel stood, her hands on the elaborate railing, and looked in rapture at the beauty around her as if that was all she had come for. I moved to stand next to her and mirrored her stance, waiting out her silence. We were a good forty feet above ground and the talan was nestled around the trunk of an old mallorn as if the two had formed a strange symbiosis. Elves always lived with nature rather than off it, but I had never seen the concept brought to such perfection. The midday sun was beaming down on us, but the canopy of leaves above us was thick. A ray of light had to be strong and stubborn to reach us on the balcony, and even stronger to touch the ground many feet below, but both Galadriel and I enjoyed the play of light around us.

“Tell me, Legolas, for how long have you known Aragorn?” Galadriel’s question came after minutes of silence between us. Yet, she did not look at me. Her gaze was still fixed upon the land around us.

“We met when he was nineteen. Thirty years. It has been thirty years,” I said, feeling keenly that we had spent more time apart than together.

“That is a long time in the life of a mortal. Even for one as long-lived as he,” she mused. “You love him, your feelings for him are visible in every gesture towards him. He loves you – madly, might I add –, I have seen it in his mind. And yet you are not bonded. Why is that?” Now she looked at me, one eyebrow cocked.

With ease she had put her finger on a sore spot and I felt a bit embarassed to be faced with such a straight-forward question. “Circumstance, I guess. There are too many things standing between us, according to our fathers.”

“Ah.” It was a little sound, but still it was heavy with meaning, which clearly indicated that she did not agree. “So the great King Thranduil and the wise Lord Elrond oppose to a union between you.”

I said nothing in return. After all, it had not been a question.

“And what about you, young prince? Would you bind yourself to that man? A mortal?”

“He is the one I love,” I said in answer and her nod told me she understood what I meant.

“As I said earlier, there might be a way to save Aragorn’s life. I must warn you though, there are no guarantees. All we have is our faith and hope. After all, I cannot say that I remember something like this ever happening before.”

“We shall try what you suggest,” I vowed.

For the next hour, Galadriel told me what she had found, gathered and deduced from the little we knew about Estel’s condition. She told me what she thought would counteract the curse and pointed out every leap of faith she had taken while working out her remedy. Her speech was long and detailed and contained a lot of words like _maybe_ or _perhaps_. Her idea originated in what she had seen in the mirror. She would not be specific, refusing to tell me anything more about what she had seen. However, she did tell me that she had looked into her mirror to see Estel’s future – if or if not the curse was counteracted. The difference in both possibilities seemed to spring from only one detail and it was her hope that this detail would help us now.

“You do understand that the risk to yourself is considerable.”

I nodded, having understood the implications of her plan.

“And you realize that your father will be furious?”

I nodded again, but could not supress a smile. “I know. He will be quite mad at me. But in the end, he will understand my reasons. This will not cause a thrift between us.” _For long,_ I added silently to myself.

“Good,” Galadriel said. “I do not fancy Thranduil attacking my little refuge because I led his son into danger.”

“He will not, I promise!” Imagining the scene was most amusing, though.

“ _That_ is not funny,” Galadriel admonished, but I could see a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I mean it, Thranduilion!” I could hear the smile in her voice now, but like the swiftly changing weather in spring she turned serious all of a sudden.

“May the Valar be with you, young prince. And let us hope that my counsel will not lead you to your doom.” She kissed my forehead in blessing.

“Let us go back inside.” Once again, she did not wait for my agreement, but simply left. Slowly, I started to adjust to her abruptness.

Once inside the bedroom I could see Arwen bent over Estel’s bed. Obviously, she had been checking the wound and was now reapplying the bandage. Estel was just answering one of her quietly spoken questions and I was glad to see him awake. When Arwen noticed our reappearance, her gaze went to Galadriel before she stepped back, allowing the older elf to take over.

Estel looked puzzled and then mildly horrified when Galadriel took up the discarded bandage and wrapped it around his shoulder with practiced fingers.

“I am Galadriel,” she introduced herself, ignoring his rigid pose.

“E...Estel,” he stammered and Galadriel chuckled at the sudden stutter he seemed to have developped.

“I know. Elrond speaks most highly of you. As does Legolas. He loves you with a passion, you know,” she whispered conspiratorially, as if she was telling Estel a secret. He blushed furiously.

“And I love him, my lady.” He turned an even darker shade of red.

“Of course you do, child.” She secured the bandage and patted him lightly on the shoulder. “There, all done. Now rest, you will need your strength soon. I will leave you now, but do not fear. I will be back before you know it. Until then, I am sure Legolas would like to tell you something.”

Galadriel let a hand linger against Estel’s brow as if in a silent blessing. Eventually, she straightened and stepped back.

“Arwen, I would speak with you.” Without another word Galadriel left as suddenly as she had entered. With a last encouraging smile in Estel’s direction, Arwen did not hesitate to follow.

Estel looked at me expectantly from his position on the bed. He could not move much since he was still bound, but I felt his eyes on me; so grey and perceptive, so compassionate and familiar. He waited for me to say something and I wanted to tell him what Galadriel had found. I was eager to share the news with him, but at the same time I knew he would be worried for my safety.

“How do you feel?” I asked, because I felt that question was a safe place to start. I walked up to the bed and made to undo his restraints, because I could see how the rope aggravated his skin.

“No, leave it be. It is safer.”

“But I know it hurts you. And I cannot see you like this.”

“Please, for my sake. I do not trust myself.” I could see that the words cost him. “I do not want to hurt you again.”

What was there to say? That he had not hurt me? That it would not matter? Those were lies and we both knew it. So I said the only thing I could. “I love you, no matter what. Never forget that.”

“As do I. For as long as I live. Longer, if the Valar permit.” I gripped his hand to show him that I cherished his vow. He returned the gesture and our fingers entwined tightly.

“You did not answer my question. How do you feel?”

“Better. My mind is at ease at the moment. The shoulder feels a bit better, too.” He looked at the pitcher of water standing on the table and I hurried to pour him a glass. I lifted his head a little to help him drink and he emptied the glass in one go.

The water had been just what his body needed. I could see his eyes become sharper almost instantly and my heart soared with the realization that for once he seemed to grow better instead of worse.

“What did Galadriel mean when she said you wanted to tell me something?” Ah, his mind was more alert as well.

Excitement took hold of me and I edged closer to his face, leaning down as if we needed to speak in hushed voices. I did not let go of Estel’s hand while I told him what Galadriel had found and what plan she had devised.

Once he understood the drift of what I was telling him, his eyes lit up with hope and his body relaxed into the blankets and cushions. However, when I had ended my recounting, concern was written plainly on his features.

“This is the only way?” he asked half-heartedly, obviously already guessing the answer.

“If there is another, we do not know it.”

Estel let out a long breath and then looked at me evenly. “Then my life is forfeit. I will not agree to this.”

I had feared he would oppose to this, but not quite so vehemently. “You would rather die?”

“I will not risk your soul for this. You are immortal, Legolas. If this goes wrong, not even death might save you.”

“So you do not want to bond with me?” That question was as dishonourable as an arrow into the back of an enemy and I knew it well. It seemed it hurt just as much as an arrow would, because pain was suddenly etched onto Estel’s features.

“You know the answer to that,” he said in a grieved voice, “but this is not how imagined we would join our hearts and souls together. Tell me whether I understood you wrong somewhere: Galadriel assumes that the curse can only affect men.”

I nodded.

“So she reasons that if you bind yourself to me, the part of your soul that you offer my heart in the process will counteract the curse because it is elven, not human.”

I nodded again.

“Yet she forbids that I bind myself to you at the same time, because she fears that the curse has left my soul tainted and it could affect your fëa.”

I grimaced, but gave another nod.

“So Galadriel admits this is dangerous. If her assumption is wrong, if your soul cannot eliminate this curse and instead it affects you as well... imagine the outcome! You are immortal; you would bear this curse in this world or in Mandos’ Halls until the world is changed. How could you even think of agreeing to such an outrageous idea?!”

“So instead you want me to sit by and watch you succumb to darkness? Could you do that if our roles were reversed?”

“They are not reversed,” he said decidedly.

“You are a coward to give me such an answer,” I said angrily. “You would give your life for me. Do not deny me the same right. Whatever the outcome of this, at least we will face it together. Does that not comfort you? Our fates will be joined once and for all.”

“I cannot bear to be the cause of you taking such a risk.”

“I do this out of my own free will. You may be the cause, but you are not forcing me. I want to do this. Galadriel would not have suggested it if there was no chance of it being successful. I want you whole again and I refuse to let it end like this.”

I could see that Estel was still not convinced. “I need to think about this.”

“Estel, time is a luxury we do not have at the moment. Galadriel wishes to do this tonight.” My next words cost me dearly. “I will not attempt this against your will, but please consider that you throw your life away if you simply give up now. Do not discard our love so easily. Fight for it, fight for _this_.”

I lent down and kissed him passionately. I closed my eyes and tried to forget everything around us. I ignored the smell of healing herbs that filled the bedchamber, ignored that Estel was tied to the bed, ignored my fear of seeing that eerie yellow glimmer in his eyes. I decided to be in the here and now, with the man I loved. I kissed him and nothing else mattered.

Estel returned the kiss with fervour, his desperation matching mine. Yet, he did not take control of the kiss, but let me decide the rhythm and intensity. I let my tongue slide against his and the motion made him moan into my mouth. He panted harshly and I feared he was exhausting himself, but when I tried to let him up, he caught my lip with his teeth and drew me down once again.

The kiss felt endless to me, but eventually we had to break apart. There was a healthy blush on Estel’s cheeks, and for once it did not indicate a high fever.

His breathing had not even calmed yet when he spoke again. “I do not want you to place yourself in danger.”

I made to interject, but he shook his head, indicating he had not finished his train of thought. “But at the same time I do not know how I could ever willingly give up to be kissed by you. If it is truly your wish to place yourself in such danger, I will agree to Galadriel’s suggestion.” He paused for a moment and then added, “but by Ilúvatar I swear: If this goes wrong and any harm comes to you I will return from that unknown place where humans go after their death to haunt Galadriel’s every step.” His eyes sparkled mischievously while he said that, but the light tone of voice did not fool me. He was serious and the threat was not made idly.

“It will not come to that, have faith!” I was relieved to have his consent. Estel had ever been a man to stand by his word and now that he had decided to go through with this, he would do it with conviction.

“Lie with me,” Estel asked. “Should something go wrong and this is the last day of my life, then I want to spend it with you by my side.”

“Gladly,” I answered and did as he had bid me.

Our bodies aligned awkwardly since Estel had not much freedom to move, but we made do. We talked for a while, with his face only an inch from mine, and I observed how the light reflected in his grey eyes.

I could see him fight his tiredness. Like me, he did not want to miss a moment of what might turn out to be our last day together. But in the end, his exhaustion won and he fell asleep, a small smile playing on his mouth even in respite.

I spent the day memorizing Estel’s features. These were his lips, able to form a straight line if he was confronted with a serious problem or formed into curve when laughter shook him. These were the wrinkles around his eyes, a cobweb of crowsfeet that appeared when he smiled. They had not been as apparant when we had seen each other last and I was reminded of the passage of time, the silent enemy we could never lose. My eyes traced the small scars on his knuckles that came from too much soldiering and I inhaled his scent deeply to commit it to memory. Time passed too quickly, though, and when dusk was falling I could not shake the sensation that I had not learned even half of what there was to learn about Estel, that I had not loved him half as much as he deserved it.

When the sun’s rays started to weake, Estel woke on his own. He opened his eyes after a long ascent from sleep and looked right into my face. I saw him trace my features with his gaze and in the end he inhaled deeply. “I missed waking up beside you. And now I fear that I will never again get the chance. There are so many things I wanted to tell you. So many more kisses I wanted to share with you. Many more years I wanted to be by your side. I do not want to leave you so soon.”

“Do not talk like that. This threat will have passed before the next dawn breaks.”

“I hope you are right,” Estel sighed. “I want to see a new dawn. I want this to be over.”

“It will all be over soon.” _One way or another_ , I added silently, but I could see in Estel’s eyes that he was thinking exactly the same.

“Lassë, I would ask you a favour.” He licked his lips, which was a sure sign that he was nervous.

“Anything, my love.”

“I fear it is cruel to ask such a thing of you and I understand why you refused before. Everything was new and frightening and I was shocked and confused. I am in my right mind now and I know what it is I must face. Still, if anything should go wrong. If there is nothing to prevent my doom, I would ask you to take my life.”

He had spoken with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, unable to finish his words while looking at me. When I did not answer immediately, he turned his head and looked at me. “Please, Melle.” The old endearment threatened to break my defences all at once.

The look in his eyes told me that he was not making this request lightly. He did not want to leave me. Neither did he want to die. He had grown up amongst elves and knew full well what fulfilling his wish would do to me. The wound this would cut me would never heal. I would fade from grief or I would sail. Either way, both our time in Middle Earth would be over.

I had so vehemently refused before, because I did not want to give up hope. But now, having the end of this ordeal within reach, I accepted that we needed to discuss this potential outcome. Finally, his death became a possibility in my mind. Something that truly might happen, as soon as tonight. I gasped at the sudden pain in my heart and realized that this was just a small part of what I would feel at Estel’s passing.

Estel tugged at the bonds to touch me, but was unable to do much. Instead, I took his hand in mine and squeezed it.

“I know I am selfish,” he started again, “but your hands have ever been gentle. I could welcome death’s embrace if it came by your hand. If I were to die in your arms, why should I fear leaving this world?”

He had said much the same when he had first asked me to do this. I had discarded the thought then, attributing it to his confused and maltreated mind. But now he was speaking calmly as if he had given it a lot of thought. I considered the option, and while my imagination shied away from the thought of holding a knife to his flesh, I could finally understand his reasons. I knew that, if it were me to pass from this world, I would wish for Estel to be by my side. So, could I really deny him that comfort?

I must have fallen silent for a long while, because Estel had gone back to staring at the ceiling. But now, obviously believing I would answer in the negative, his eyes held a glassy look that indicated unshed tears. He swallowed hard and blinked the tears away. “I am sorry to have asked for more than you can give.”

“And I am sorry I did not understand before what it was you were asking of me. You called it a deed of love, do you remember? I did not understand it then, but I think I do now. I would never deny you my love. If we find there is no other way, I will do as you request of me.”

It seemed all tension suddenly vanished from Estel’s body. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment to process all we had discussed just now. When he looked up again, I saw his desperate need to touch me. I could not see him bound any longer, so I took Arwen’s small knife from the bedside table and cut the rope around his wrists with an angry movement. As soon as Estel’s hands were free he threw himself into my waiting arms and embraced me like a man drowning.

“Thank you,” he said into my hair and rested his cheek against my neck. I rocked our bodies in silence while my hands drew large circles on his back.

“Thank you,” he said again. “I love you.”

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title is a line from “Love Farewell” by John Tams.

  * I've included a little bit of glamour in the scene with Galadriel, which is otherwise known as elf magic. The little detail I used is just a nod to Laurell K. Hamilton, mostly to her “Merry Gentry”-series, which is inhabited by sidhe-elves (which in turn are lifted from Irish mythology).

  * The idea that Legolas elven soul can counteract the curse placed upon Aragorn came to me while reading a book on wolves by Erik Zimen, a scientist who spent his life researching wolves. He notes about werewolves that it seems only men are affected by that curse. This suggested that neither women, nor children – and in the last instance no elves – can become werewolves. So, in theory, if Aragorn is only “elven” enough, the curse will have no hold over him.




**Translation:**

yén – unit of time, equivalent to 144 years

daernaneth – grandmother

fëa – elven soul


	14. These Bonds are Shackle Free

#  14\. These Bonds are Shackle-Free

Just as she had promised, Galadriel returned by nightfall. I had expected Arwen to accompany her , but that Tandollen made up the rear, looking very official but also somewhat out of place, surprised me.

I helped Estel sit up on the bed, because he refused to be forced unto his back when the lady decided to visit. His eyes were wide when she swept into the room, hoping that he would now learn from her what happened next.

“Good evening, child.” Galadriel adressed him with one of her enigmatic smiles while she lifted her hand to his brow once again. I could see that Estel swallowed a comment about being called a _child_. He knew full well that to an elven mind his knowledge and experience must seem small and insignificant, but still he hated to be reminded of that difference.

So Estel settled for, “good evening, lady.”

“You talked,” she stated, without waiting for either of us to validate her statement. “Young prince, let me look at you.” She turned to me and her vivid blue eyes seemed to look right into my heart. _Are you certain that you want to go through with this_ , her gaze seemed to ask. I did not even bother to nod, because I knew she would be able to see in my heart that I had never been so sure about anything in my life. My silent answer must have been sufficient, for she stopped her probing and returned to the matter at hand.

“Everything is prepared. Now you two must ready yourselves before we can proceed. Tandollen will assist you, young prince, while Arwen and I attend Aragorn.”

I had not expected to be parted from Estel and for a heartbeat panic seized me. The feeling was absurd, for I knew Estel was in the best of hands. Still I could not shake the need to stay with him. In theend it was Estel himself who helped me save face.

“Do not worry, we will see each other soon. Now kiss me good-bye before you go.”

I have never been overly modest, but it felt odd to kiss him with three pairs of eyes watching us. Therefore, the kiss was short but heartfelt, and once it ended and I made to leave with Tandollen, I committed the image before me to memory: Estel was sitting on the side of the bed, bent by pain and uncertainty. His eyes shone with the last vestiges of fever and with something I would call hope. He smiled at me, a smile to get one’s courage up and I smiled back before leaving as quickly as I could. If I had not hurried my steps I feared I would be unable to leave at all.

A spiderweb of plank bridge had been built into the trees, connecting talans without forcing the elves to set foot upon the forest floor. Tandollen led me along these pathways to a smaller talan and bid me enter. He followed me into the room and when I turned back to him I meant to see him come up from a deep bow. I frowned.

“Tell me, Tandollen, what will happen now?”

“This is a ceremony an elf will only undergo once in his life, so Lady Galadriel wishes to do this properly, even though time is pressing. She wishes you to bathe and change. I volunteered to attend you, since you have no family here that could help you prepare. Of course, if you would prefer someone nearer to your own station...?” He looked to the door, indicating that he could fetch someone else any moment.

“I thank you for your kindness, Tandollen.” I was touched by the gesture.

Tandollen relaxed visibly upon hearing my answer. “Then I suggest you bathe first.”

He opened the door to a second room where two elves were just emptying buckets of hot water into a tub that had been pushed into the center of the chamber. The air was filled with enticing fragrances and steam was coming up from the water. I had been on the road for more than a month now and I craved for a bath. I would enjoy dipping my feet into the water and being lulled by the warmth. And I could not wait to wash the dirt of the road away.

“A very good idea,” I agreed. I was startled when Tandollen made no move to leave me alone, but instead started to unbraid my hair. He kept his eyes respectfully lowered when I shrugged out of my travel-stained clothes and decided not to be intimidated by the presence of another elf.

Once naked, I experimentally dipped a toe into the tub before submerging myself fully in the water. I could not suppress a heartfet sigh. “The water is wonderful,” I said unnecessarily.

Tandollen washed my hair, massaging my scalp in the process until I felt relaxed enough to fall asleep any moment. When he was done and I floated just between the moment of wakefulness and sleep, he nudged me with a piece of soap to indicate I should wash my body. The water started to chill once I was sufficiently clean, so I carefully stepped out of the tub, thankfully taking the plush towel which Tandollen held open for me.

I was just rubbing my skin dry when a thought occured to me. “My pack is in Estel’s room. I have spare garments in there, maybe I should wear them.” Of course they were travel-stained as well, but my choices my limited. It was either that or what I had been wearing during the last week.

“Worry not, the lady chose a set of garments for you.” Tandollen pointed to an armchair where I could see a complete set of clothes laid out for me. They were of silver-grey, the colour of moonbeams when they hit a lake. The cloth felt silken and light and intricate designs had been stitched into it. I could see small leaves swirling around the collar, a design that repeated itself on a belt that came with the leggins.

“These are beautiful. But how...?”

“Lady Galadriel had them made for you.”

I slipped into the clothes and marvelled at the fact that they were a perfect fit.

“In such a short time?”

  
Tandollen just shrugged. “You could hardly use now what you had been wearing upon your arrival.”

He was right, those garments had seen better days, but it still amazed me that Galadriel had managed to have that complete set made in less than two days.

Tandollen brushed my hair before he took up a silk thread and a few gemstones to braid into my tresses.

“That is not necessary.”

“Of course it is! You should look your best for this occasion.” His nimble fingers worked with practiced ease and when he was done I had to agree that the outcome was most pleasing. On most days, I wore my hair open or tied together in one single braid. Anything more elaborate was left for special occasions - this was one of those special occasions, I suddenly realized and my heart started to thump in my chest.

Tandollen had decided on three braids, a thicker one on the back of my head and two small ones on each side. The tiny gems sparkled in the light of the candles when I turned my head to see all of Tandollen’s mastery. Later, when all of this was over, I would have to ask him how to do this.

Tandollen bid me to stand up and turn in a circle. I felt like I was fifty again. Back then my mother used to come to my room before any offical functions to make sure I had not buttoned up my shirt the wrong way. The memory sent a pang through my heart. How I wished she could be here now to witness this! She had always encouraged my love for Estel and it pained me not to have her by my side now. I certainly could do with her strength and wise words now.

“All done, Prince Legolas.” Tandollen’s words brought me back to the present. “I think we should leave now, the hour is growing late.”

I looked out of the window and saw that darkness had fully descended on the land. There was no moon to illuminate the woods tonight. I wondered how Estel was faring and whether the dark of night was luring him.

“Yes, let us leave. I wish to be reunited with Estel.”

I had not seen much of Galadriel’s realm upon our arrival, but I soon realized that Tandollen was leading me out of Caras Galadhon. We were going north, slowly leaving the inhabited parts of the wood behind us.

“Where are we going?” I asked, slightly puzzled. I had not given any thought to where the ceremony would be held, but thinking about it now I had expected it to be within the elven city.

“To Cerin Amroth. Arwen suggested the place and I am certain it will exceed your expectations once you see it. In the elder days it was the home of King Amroth, who lived in the tall trees growing there. Nowadays it is deserted, but our people hold it in highest regard. To some it is the most beautiful place east of Aman.”

We walked away from Caras Galadhon until the small spots of light coming from the many talans were nothing but tiny pinpricks of light in the nightly cloak that was covering the woods. It was unusually dark, but Tandollen’s steps were sure and swift. Soon enough, the thick forest opened up into a clearing.

Tandollen had not exaggerated. The place was indeed beautiful and I could feel old magic weave its way through the air and trees. Upon the mound that was our destination now two circles of trees were growing. The trees in the outer circle had a bark of shimmering white with leaves glittering in a light silver. The inner circle were mallorn trees, their strong trunks even and thick as soldiers standing on guard. In the very centre, towering over all other life here stood the tallest tree I had ever seen. Its branches reached high into the sky and seemed to disappear among the clouds. Amidst its leaves I could see a talan of purest white.

Once Tandollen and I had reached our destination, we stepped into the high grass covering the mound. Nightblooming flowers grew amidst the succulent green. Some had blossoms shaped like stars, some were of the palest green and others of sparkling gold. I tried not to step on them, but their number was so large that it was impossible not to encounter them wherever I walked.

A group of about twenty elves formed a half circle around the tall tree in the centre. Burning torches had been driven into the ground to illuminate the setting. The spectators turned into our direction when they noticed our approach and stepped aside to let me pass into the ring while Tandollen stayed back with his folk. I recognized Galadriel and Arwen amongst the elves present. Celeborn was standing a bit to the side. Behind him I spotted Haldir, a look of curiosity on his normally blank face.

Estel leaned heavily against the trunk of the tallest tree, concentrating hard on simply staying upright. It was obvious that he had undergone the same procedure as I. He was clean-shaven and his hair had been washed and combed. He wore clothes I had never seen before. His leggins were grey as well, but his shirt was dark red. Sewed into his collar was the insignia of Elrond’s house, a single star surrounded by a halo. The shirt was open at the front, revealing his naked skin, and I could see that the bandage had been left off for tonight. The wound had finally closed, but the scar tissue was still thin and tender, drawing lines of pale pink all across his shoulder.

Estel lifted his head when he noticed my approach. His eyes locked with mine and he gave me a brave smile, one that I mirrored at once. I had never been able to resist his smiles. Galadriel walked up to me, interrupting the private moment.

“You look good,” I told him, meaning it. The colour of the shirt suited him and only the tight line around his eyes that indicated he was in pain gave away the fact that he was not hale.

I did not dare kiss him with all these elves present, but I needed some contact. I cupped his cheek, savouring the feel of his clean-shaven skin. Estel closed his eyes to better enjoy the moment, before the sound of someone clearing his throat brough us back to reality. I turned my head and saw Galadriel give me a fond smile.

“I did not misread you on our first meeting, young prince. You are strong, in body and mind. Just as he is.” Her gaze went to Estel. “You are a good match. You will find much happiness in each other.”

I was heartened by her faith in me and was just searching for the right words to thank her properly, when she embraced me, kissing me on the cheek in blessing. She put something in my open palm and then closed my hand around it. The object was hard and had a smooth surface. Yet, unlike stone or metal it was warm as if alive. I opened my palm to see what gift she had bestowed upon me. It was a green stone of utmost beauty, glowing from within with a sparkling light. It was bright but not blinding and appeared like sunlight streaming through a canopy of leaves. The stone was set in a silver brooch depicting an eagle with outstretched wings. Holes had been drilled into the wings, which allowed its owner to wear it on a silver chain. I let the gem dangle from the chain and marvelled at how it sparkled brilliantly in the fire of the torches while it swung free.

“It is beautiful!”

“It is not for you, though,” Galadriel added, obviously delighted at seeing me so impressed by the jewel. “It is said that Celebrimbor fashioned it, trapping sunlight within the green stone. It is the Elessar, once brought to me from Aman by Olorin himself. He entrusted it into my safekeeping, suggesting I use it to make these woods the fairest place in Middle Earth. He told me that I was not to keep it, for one would come who should receive it. My heart tells me that the time has come to part with it and that Aragorn is indeed the one onto which the stone should pass. It bears a certain healing power and I feel it will serve Aragorn well to have it. In the very least, it will strengthen the bond fashioned tonight.”

“I thank you, my lady.” I clasped the stone tightly, hoping its old power would indeed help Estel come back to us.

“We should start,” Galadriel exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear. In a quieter voice she asked, “you remember all that I told you?”

“Yes,” I agreed. I had memorized every word we would need tonight.

“One thing, though.” It was Arwen who spoke. She stepped forward and embraced me in a loving gesture. “I already gave Estel my blessings and you deserve no less. The reason why we are here is a sad one, but let the occasion be joyous nonetheless. I wish you well, Legolas Thranduilion, and will gladly call you brother.”

I was touched by her words. “And I will be honoured to call you sister, Arwen.”

“Now, go to him,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, giving a nod in Estel’s direction.

“There is nowehere I would rather be,” I agreed and came to stand across from Estel, within easy touching distance.

A hush went through the assembled crowd when the elves noticed that the ceremony was about to begin. Estel lifted his head but kept quiet, knowing that the greater responsibility would fall to me this night.

Galadriel, who had come to stand facing us both, raised her hands. I saw Nenya, the ring of power, on her right ringfinger shimmer with an unsettling glimmer. “We have assembled here tonight, in this place of beauty and history, to witness the union of two, who wish their hearts and lives to be bound together. Elves do not give their love lightly, for it is within our nature to love wholly and without restraint once our heart is given. Unlike mortals, we do not bond for life. We bond for eternity.

“Prince Legolas, do you understand the implications of binding yourself to a human? To one who will die eventually and shatter your heart irrevocably?”

“Yes, I do.” My answer was heartfelt. I had spent thirty years pondering Estel’s humanity and I would not back out now.

“Then so it shall be,” Galadriel concluded.

She started to speak in a language I had no knowledge of. It was Quenya, the language of the elves of Valinor. It was Galadriel’s language... a thing of the elder days that had fallen prey to time during the ages. It was rarely spoken nowadays, except on formal occasions.

She had explained to me that she would be speaking a petition to the Valar. She was calling upon them to bless our union and to intertwine our fates. I heard her speak those unknown words and felt soothed by their melody.

I understood nothing of what she was saying, but still the words struck a chord deep within me, calling me on an instinct and archaic level. I felt restless suddenly, as if I had forgotten something vital – something I had known only moments before. The knowledge was fleeting, like a dream retreating from my waking mind.

Through it all, Galadriel spoke, her voice raising in volume. Her words cut into me, drained me, and I could not shake the feeling that my innermost self bled out of me, leaving me behind despaired. I felt so empty and new-born. Like a thirsting flower I yearned for water, for something to fill me and give me reason.

This emotion was so all-ecompassing that it took precious moments until I remembered that Galadriel had explained this feeling to me. It was caused by her incantation. What I felt was my soul reaching out to Estel, straining to unite with him. It was the preparation for the joining of souls.

Estel looked at me intently, as if he could see right into my soul. As if drawn on a string he closed the one remaining step seperating us and his hand closed around mine, burying the Elessar within our grasp.

The moment our hands touched felt like a dying fire burning bright once more because it had found new fodder. The void I had felt before, the restlessness, the piece my soul was missing – it was all answered the moment Estel touched me. My soul reached out, desperate to join with him, feel him, be with him.

I could sense him with an intensity I had never felt before. There was his love, his passion, everything that made him the man I loved and yet there was darkness as well. Something evil lurked in the shadows of his mind, grabbing for my soul and trying to shatter the love that we shared. I fought against that power, letting the light of my fëa shine into the darkest corners of his soul. And finally, I felt how the darkness shied away from the light, powerless against my will to fight for Estel’s soul, his heart, his future.

The feeling was humbling. Our minds had touched before, but it did not compare to what I felt now. No certain thoughts reached me, no words. But his love, his trust and his desperation to stay with me – all those rushed through the bond we were forging right now. With each beat of his heart I felt the bond strengthen like a living and growing thing.

Galadriel’s words reached the end of their crescendo and then died all of a sudden. The forest fell eerily silent and the beat of my own heart sounded terribly loud in my ears. Estel’s grip on my hand tightened and the Elessar burned warm and comforting between our fingers.

“The law of life is love unto all beings.” Galadriel had promised not to speak the vow in Quenya. I wanted to understand what she was saying. “Without love, life is nothing,” she intoned.

“Above you are the stars, below you are the stones. As time doth pass, remember: Like a stone should your love be firm, like a star should your love be constant.

“Legolas Thranduilion, prince of Mirkwood, I have not the right to bind you to this man. Only you have that right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her nod at me, prompting me to speak. I did not take my eyes from Estel, though.

“Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I take thee to my hand, my heart and my spirit to be my chosen one. To desire and be desired by thee. To possess thee and be possessed by thee without sin or shame. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty. In life and beyond, where we shall meet and love again.” The last I had added on my own, hoping that I was speaking the truth.

The Elessar burned brighter than ever between my fingers when I disentangled my hand from Estel’s grasp.

“Heart to thee,” I intoned and felt how our hearts started to beat in unison, my strong and healthy one helping Estel’s along that had faltered so often during the last days.

“Soul to thee.” The new connection between us was humming in content, drawing our minds nearer together.

“Body to thee.” I lifted my right hand and placed it above Estel’s heart, the Elessar trapped between us. The jewel sparkled with an unearthly light, so bright and healing that it could not be contained within my fingers. It broke free and encased us both in an aura of sunlight. It was pure and warm, cocooning us safely. Before speech would wholly evade me, I managed to say the last words to make the rite complete.

“Forever and always, so mote it be.” And with that I could not resist my heart any longer and I kissed him. My love for him exploded like one of Gandalf’s fireworks behind my closed eyelids. So many emotions flooded me at once that I sobbed into the kiss, unable to contain what was in my heart. I felt Estel respond desperately, seeking contact with my skin and my heart. The bond between us, so raw and new, felt like a tight rope without give. It grew ever shorter until I felt there was nothing between us, no barrier or secret. We were one, truly one. After thirty years, we were finally united.

Estel’s happiness swept through me. I felt overwhelmed by the emotion, enjoying the endless stream of love and assurance coming from him. It was his emotion and then it was mine, as if it was a gift that could be given and received at the same time.

We stayed in this new-found place we had built just now for an eternity, forgetting our surroundings as if we were two young elflings falling in love for the first time. When I came to, I found myself sitting on the ground and holding Estel tight as if I feared anyone would bodily take him from me. He was huddled against me with his head resting against my chest. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing deeply and evenly.

I did not lessen the hold that I had on him, afraid that any movement on my part might shatter the powerful feelings that were still coursing through my veins at such an alarming speed. I looked up and around, though, and noticed that quite some time must have passed without my knowledge. All elves except Galadriel had disappeared. We were all but alone.

There was only one question occupying my mind right now. “Did it work? Is he...?” My heart told me the answer, but I needed to hear it spoken out loud.

Galadriel nodded thoughtfully. “You can feel it. You are bound to him now.” In a gesture that felt familiar by now she put her forefinger against Estel’s temple and closed her eyes. For a long while she stayed like that, unmoving and silent until I started to feel unnerved. She was not swayed in her silent persual, however, and when she finally opened her eyes, she gave me good news. “I can feel no darkness in him. Your love drove it away. All of it.”

I let out a deep breath. “So he is restored?”

“His mind is his own once more,” she told me.

“Is he asleep?” I asked, troubled by the fact that Estel would not wake.

“Powerful magic is weaved at a binding such as yours. I think it is a bit much for a human body to stomach. Do not worry, he will wake soon.”

She pointed upwards. “The talan has been prepared for you. Feel free to stay there for as long as you desire. You will not be disturbed.”

She turned, meaning to leave us to our own devices, but I could not let her walk away without giving her my heartfelt thanks. “Thank you. I will never be able to repay this debt to you. But thank you!”

She looked at both Estel and I with her eternally wise eyes. A shadow flitted across her serene face and her lips moved, murmuring something that I did not catch.

It was only after she was gone that I was finally able to discern her words: “His soul is saved. Let us hope that is enough, young prince.”

My heart sank hearing those words. What did she mean?

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the song “Ask For Answers” by Placebo.

  * The description of Cerin Amroth is fashioned after _The Fellowship of the Ring_ , Chapter 6 _Lothlórien._ In canon, this is the place of Aragorn’s and Arwen’s betrothal. 

  * The actual vow Legolas speaks was taken from the very helpful website handfasting.info.

  * Galadriel’s account of the Elessar stone has its origin in Tolkien’s _Unfinished Tales_ , Part 2, Chapter 4. Upon recounting the Elessar’s history to Legolas, Galadriel refers to this quote from the _Unfinished Tales_ : “It is not for you to possess. You shall hand it on when the time comes. For before you grow weary and at last forsake Middle Earth one shall come who is to receive it, and his name shall be that of the stone: Elessar he shall be called.” The same chapter gives some clue as to the healing properties of the stone: “For it is said that those who looked through this stone saw things that were withered and burned healed again or as they were in the grace of their youth, and that the hands of the one who held it brought to all they touched healing from hurt.” Which, of course, is why Galadriel gives the Elessar to Legolas at first.




**Translation:**  
fëa – elven soul


	15. Fight Away All of your Fears

#  15\. Fight Away All of Your Fears

Her words had unsettled me, but I was soon calmed by the peaceful atmosphere of Cerin Amroth. The night was well underway and the forest had quietened considerably, but I could still feel the life native to these woods all around me. As an elf I was used to being attuned to nature, but this feeling of total belonging envelopping me now was stronger than anything I had ever felt before. I was part of my surroundings, in tune with them and before my eyes the picture of a great puzzle appeared and I saw myself putting the last piece in and marvelling at the image that formed.

I held Estel close, trying to draw on the new bond between us. It flared to life instantly, shocking me with its unexpected intensity. My mind reached out to him, to reconnect with the part of my soul I had left in his safekeeping, and easily slipped into his dreams. The steady drum of his heart reverberated in my own body while Estel’s sleeping mind sought our connection on pure instinct. There was nothing but darkness to see, black and thick, but it did not feel intimidating or alien to me. It just _was_ , drawing a blanket of oblivion over his thoughts and giving his mind time to rest. Untried as I was, I concluded that this blackness would be the space usually inhabited by dreams, but that his exhaustion let him sleep dreamless for now.

I stayed in that nothingness and then retreated silently until the connection between us was nothing more but a gentle hum in the back of my mind. I marvelled at this new aspect of our love, because it would allow us to be together on a new level, but at the same time an invisible fist closed around my heart and squeezed. I felt empty, cold and so very alone. If Estel had spoken a vow as well, part of his soul would be warming my heart now. I could carry him with me always and draw on his love and strength at will. However, Estel had spoken no vow and our bonding, as humbling an experience as it had been, was not truly complete. Galadriel had warned me that I would feel this void keenly, but she had been adamant that it was too risky to have Estel’s still cursed soul form a bond with mine.

However, Estel’s soul was saved and I would bear the pain of that missing piece gladly if it meant that his eyes would from now on look at me free from darkness. I listened to his even breathing, trying to hear any change indicating he was waking. I looked upwards and saw the white talan waiting for us. Should I carry him up the winding stairs or wait here until he woke on his own?

As if on cue, Estel opened his eyes. His abrupt awakening startled me and I wondered whether my longing to see him wake had somehow resonated in his heart. In any case, I felt there was much to explore about this bond.

“Lassë,” Estel greeted in joy but made no move to entangle himself from my grasp. “I feel so light. So...,” he searched for a word that would describe the emotion precisely.

“Free?” I offered and waited impatiently for his confirmation.

“Free. Better. Whole.” He looked at me with such a relief on his face that my heart skipped a beat. And then his gaze grew distant while the bond between us flared. “I feel like I fell in love with you all over again.”

I smiled at the fact that he had easily put into words what I was feeling as well. It felt so new and exciting as if we had shared our first kiss only yesterday and were still exploring all there was to know about the other. And in a way that was the case, because this new layer was yet undiscovered country waiting for our arrival.

“I feel the same. See.” I let my love reach through the bond and the relief on his face was displaced by disbelief.

“That is what you feel for me?” Estel asked and I felt his mind dip into the bond. “It is beautiful.”

He was silent for a while, taking the time to explore what had been built between us. I opened my mind as wide as possible, trying to feel him in this plane as solidly as in reality. Estel needed more effort to make that connection, but his elven blood, however diluted, seemed to help him. When he had enough of that first exploration, he leant against me and looked around for the first time.

“Everyone is gone,” he observed.

“Yes, they left quite a while ago. Galadriel assured me that your soul is free from evil now. Darkness has no hold over you.”

“I have you to thank you for that,” Estel said sincerely. “We are bonded. We are one. I have longed for that day for so long.” It was a slip of tongue on his part. He knew we were not fully bonded. I was bound to him while he was not bound to me. I decided to not correct his words. There was no use dwelling on these things right now.

I felt the eagle’s wings of the Elessar prick into my hand, reminding me of Galadriel’s gift. I lifted the gem and closed the chain around his neck. “For you, to commemorate this day, my love.”

The stone glowed in a warm green light and the moment it came in contact with Estel’s skin I could not shake the impression that he looked younger suddenly. The stone seemed to lift a great weight from his shoulders and I secretely thanked the lady for offering him such a valuable gift.

Estel lifted his right hand to his throat, letting it rest above the stone. “How else should we commemorate this day?”

“Mhm, a feast?” I offered. Now that the danger had passed I felt giddy with relief. Yet, my playful suggestion did not tempt Estel at all.

“A dance?” I saw him give the idea serious thought. He loved dancing with me, because the sensual movement tended to lead to more between us.

“I could try and write a poem about it?!” Estel managed to look quite sickened by that proposal. He knew quite well I could not rhyme to save my life.

“Or we could do something else. Do you have anything in mind?” I asked with fake innocence.

“I would like to kiss you. And be kissed by you,” Estel said without hesitation.

“I would like that as well.” I pointed upwards. “The talan is ours. Shall we see whether there is a kingsize bed?”

My smile turned into a choke when I felt Estel’s desire, pure and unchecked, set my veins on fire. I saw myself ravished at his hands and kissed thoroughly before he made love to me reverently. In that moment, I knew not whether the fantasy was his or mine. It mattered not.

I could not wait to be finally reunited with him, but another look skywards made me hesitate. “How do you feel? Do you think you can walk all the way up there?”

Estel followed my eyes until he spotted the white talan. “I will not know until I try.”

It became evident soon that while his soul was healed his body was still far from it. He was in much better shape than last night and could walk under his own power, but he tired easily and faltered repeatedly once we had reached the stairs leading up the tree. I feared he would exhaust himself to the point where he would be too weary to make love to me. I really could not have that since I truly wished to be one with him tonight.

We stopped after the stairs had taken two bends around the tree trunk. Estel had slung his right arm around my shoulder for support while his left gingerly held on to the trunk. He breathed heavily, trying to calm his racing heart.

“I should carry you or you will be too exhausted for anything besides kissing.”

Estel looked up, trying to see the our destination, but of course there was only the next turn of stairs above us. He was biting his lips in thought.

“All right. Otherwise, I fear I will need all night to climb that tree.” He looked down now, seeing that we were not at all far above ground yet.

“A wise decision, my love.” He slung his left arm around my shoulders as well, wincing when the wound was pulled. I lifted him easily and started to climb the steps. His head came to rest on my shoulder and I felt his hot breath upon my neck. He breathing calmed and his body started to relax in my arms. He was such a strong and independent man that he did not trust others easily with his weaknesses. There were few he would have allowed to carry him thus, but I knew I was the only one to convince him without a long discussion preceding his consent.

We were climbing ever higher and soon the ground grew distant and dark beneath us. I enjoyed feeling Estel’s solid weight in my arms so much that I almost regretted reaching our destination. The stairs ended in a spacious platform on which the talan stood. The structur was open and spacious and upon first glance it was unclear where the outside ended and the talan began. The windows were large, allowing a slight breeze into the chambers. Instead of a door there was a wide entryway and I just meant to go through it when Estel started to wiggle in my arms.

“Stop, let me down,” he demanded and I acted at once, setting him on his own two feet once more. He stood firmly, all of his former tiredness forgotten.

“I want to carry you over the threshhold,” he announced. I would have laughed at the notion of him lifting _anything_ in his frail state had not his face been so serious.

“You will hurt yourself, meleth. We can walk together if you want. Here, take my hand.” I offered him my outstretched hand, but he made no move to take it.

“No,” Estel shook his head. “Humour me. It is an old custom among the rangers. I have seen it many a time and everytime I witnessed it I wished to carry you into our new life together.”

I could see that he truly wanted this and even before he had ended his explanation my mind was made up. He had not been permitted to speak his vows to me, so if this was all the promise he was allowed to give me I would be damned if I denied him this. I just hoped he would not damage his shoulder further by carrying me.

“You are not so heavy, Legolas. Do not worry.” Without waiting a moment longer he lifted me off the ground. I saw him grimace, but he did not falter. He adjusted the grip he had on me and I wound my arms lovingly around his neck.

He started to walk inside the chamber and I felt his arms tremble under my weight. Yet, instead of proceeding right into the inner chamber he stopped to stand inside the doorway. His lips closed the few inches between us and captured mine in a kiss. With our mouths joined he stepped into the room and I felt as if he had carried me right into a dream. He made no move to set me down, but walked on until we had reached the bed. He laid me down gently and before letting himself fall upon the mattress with an exhausted sigh.

I was instantly worried that the little exercise had been too taxing, but when I looked at him I saw a wide grin of satisfaction on his face. “That was worth pulling a few muscles for,” he said.

“I am not _that_ heavy,” I repeated his earlier words and pinched him lightly in the arm to make my point. He laughed suddenly, a laugh that shook his whole body and made his eyes water. He was unable to contain his mirth and everytime he tried to look at me a new bout of laughter erupted.

I was mesmerized by his unexpected reaction. I had not seen him laugh so carefree in a long while. If I was honest with myself I had to admit that I had not believed to ever see him so mirthful again. Estel had always had an infectious laughter. His laughter was nothing like the polite giggle one saw at court, where you hid your smiling mouth behind an upheld hand. He was not ashamed of being terribly amused and always wanted to share his good spirits with others. It was quite impossible to ignore his wide grin and amused gaze.

It took Estel a long while to quieten down again, but in the end he was lying next to me gasping for air. His eyes were watery and he made to dry them with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Sorry,” Estel apologized. “I did not mean to laugh at you.”

“You were not laughing at me.” He had been laughing at life, and I could understand why. Finding yourself still alive after facing such odds only left you laughing or crying. I was glad he had chosen the first option. “I have always loved seeing you laugh.”

I did not give him time to reply, but covered his mouth with a kiss before asking, “are you truly all right?”

“I am truly all right,” There was no hesitation when Estel answered and all the burdens I had carried over the last week fell from me. We had weathered this storm together and now it was finally time to enjoy our reunion.

As if on a silent cue we both decided in the same moment that we had traded enough words. Our lips came together on their own accounts and I felt a thrill go through my body when our tongues met wetly and sloppily. Estel plundered my mouth with something akin to desperation and I gladly let him take the lead. He explored my mouth thoroughly while I opened to him in body and mind. I heard him moan into the kiss and my cock reacted to the sound, aching to be touched.

I slid my hands under his open shirt and let my fingers trail across his chest and belly. He was still thin and I could feel every single rib, but touching him gave me nothing but pleasure.

Estel wanted to reciprocate the feeling, but he seemed to have a problem undoing the elaborate fastings of my shirt. He lost the rhythm of the kiss for a moment and gave a frustrated growl because he could not reach my naked skin. I was just about to help him undo the knots, when he simply ripped the lace in two.

When my chest was exposed, Estel broke the kiss and took an endless moment to simply look at me. His eyes smoldered with passion and that gaze alone made me desperate for his touch. I reached out to him, trying to get our bodies closer together. It seemed to bring him back to the present and he attached his lips firmly to my nipples.

I gasped at the lust building in me. I was hard and rubbed my arousal against his thigh to let him know how much I wanted him. Estel was not distracted from his task of licking my nipples, but his left hand went down my body and cupped my arousal through the fabric of my leggins.

Even that simple touch was enough to drive me wild with need for him, but at the same time I feared our lovemaking would be over too soon. I wanted this dance to go on forever, to make up for all the lost years in which we had not seen each other. For that I needed to dampen the fire that was burning hot in my veins. I tried to distract myself by stripping out of my shirt. Estel thanked me by placing feather-light kisses everywhere his mouth could reach. His lips nipped at my sides, worrying the skin until I could not tell whether the touch tickled or hurt. His tongue dipped into my belly-button, swirling around lazily while my moans grew louder and more desperate. His teeth bit gently into the skin right above my hipbone and I arched off the bed, closing my eyes tightly to better enjoy the sensation. His hands tugged suggestively at the waistband of my leggins and the action made all thoughts flee from my mind. My already quickened breath turned loud and laboured in my ears.

Estel shifted his body until he came to lie above me. His head rested in the hollow of my neck and his hot breath tickled the oversensitized skin of my throat. He nibbled at my earlobe lovingly and ground his hips down simultaneously to let me feel his arousal. I did feel his passion, did feel his love by drawing on the bond. Still, I felt trapped suddenly. There was no room to move or breathe and I started to gasp for air because panic was building in my body.

Estel’s body on me felt unusually heavy, like a dead weight pinning me to the bed. The claustrophobic feeling caused me to wiggle and push against him in earnest. With rational thought taking its leave, I did not realize that Estel did not hold me down against my will. I threw him off with all the force I could muster. The move surprised him and he landed on the other side of the bed, on his still mending shoulder. Estel swallowed a pained cry, probably to keep me from worrying about his health. However, he could do nothing to hide his stunned look from me.

I was glad that I was free to move and breathe once again, but as soon as the fog in my mind started to clear, I realized what had just happened.

I wanted to apologize to him, but he beat me to it. “I am sorry, I did not think,” he said in a voice laced with pain and guilt. He slowly sat up with his knees drawn up to his chest. His hair was a mess and the shirt hung in disarray on his frame. “I should not have assumed you would want to be touched like this.” He looked at me dismayed.

I had all but forgotten about his bruising grip, his heavy body, his teeth biting into my throat, his cock pushing into me relentlessly despite my screams. I had forgotten the horrors of this night, because Estel had needed me strong. Now I realized that those things could not be pushed into the back of my mind forever and I had no idea how I should fight my fears.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked, remembering how he had landed on his left side.

“Did _you_ hurt _me_?” Estel asked incredously. “Lassë, you saved my life. I know you feared for me, for I could see it in your eyes whenever you thought I was not looking. And despite your fears you were so strong for me. You pushed on when I was ready to give up. It is only thanks to you that I am here now, whole and alive. It is finally over. There is no need to drive yourself so hard anymore. If you are scared, I can be strong for you now.”

I looked away from him, blinking back tears. He kept talking, but made no move to come any closer. “It is my fault you are hurting; my fault you are afraid. Did you believe I would choose to forget that night? It sickens me to think of it. I used your body; I abused your mind. I took what should only be given freely and with love. You saved my life despite of what I did to you. I was blind to believe that you could ever welcome my kisses again.”

Silence stretched between us once Estel had finished speaking. I did not understand myself. How could I hope to make _him_ understand?

I shook my head. “I did not save your life despite of what you did. I saved you because I love you. Nothing will change that, not even the memory of that night.”

Estel opened his mouth to speak, but I lifted a hand to quieten him. “I want you to touch me, but at the same time I fear it. I know that attack... that was not truly you. It was something wholly evil and I shudder at the memory of it. But it was not you. Never you.” I shivered, feeling cold suddenly.

Estel let his hands fall to his sides and then inched closer to me until he could grab my hand. He took it like a lifeline and then asked tentatively, “may I? Please?”

I was not quite certain what he was asking permission for, but I nodded anyway. He came closer until he could embrace me. Lately, our embraces had always been an exchange of strength, a way to offer comfort when nothing else would. It had fallen to me to succor Estel like this, but now I found I had no strength left for myself. Instead it was Estel whose arms were strong and protective around me. Not at all restrictive I realized with relief, but reassuring and comforting. I let myself fall into the embrace and sought all he had to offer, silently revelling in the feeling of simply being held. Nothing could hurt me as long as Estel’s arms protected me.

“We have all the time in the world,” Estel said into my hair while he gently rocked our bodies in time with his heartbeat. “I do not deserve your carresses after what I did to you. I will wait for your ardour to return. And should that never happen, it matters not to me.”

“But that is just it,” I said, feeling frustrated suddenly. “I burn for you like I always did. I wish to make love with you. It is my body that betrays me, not my mind.”

“Then we will have to find a way to convince your body that my touch can be enjoyable.”

I let go of the embrace and looked at him. “It is enjoyable. And I want to be joined with you.”

He nodded, but made no further move.

“Now,” I clarified.

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the song “My Immortal” by Evanescence.




**Translation:**  
meleth - love


	16. My Heart in Which he Dwells

# 16\. My Heart in which He Dwells

“Are you certain that this is what you want?” Estel asked, unconvinced that resuming our lovemaking would not simply result in another panic attack on my part.

I gave the question serious thought, probing my heart for any misgivings. However, I only found what I had already told Estel: I longed for his touch, even though my body seemed loath to endure it. I was sure that shying away from his caresses would solve nothing.

“I can think of nothing that I want more than this.”

Estel was still doubtful and he would have readily accepted an answer in the negative from me. At the same time the new bond between us allowed me to feel his arousal as if it was my own. He wanted to lie with me, though he would follow my lead in this. I needed to overcome my fear and by doing so would convince him that he was truly forgiven. It was only through our love that we could wash ourselves clean of that night.

Estel had not yet relinquished his hold on my hand, but he was doing so now. “You take the reins tonight, Melle. I will not touch you unless it is your wish. Do with me as you please.” He made true on his promise in a matter of moments, sitting unmoving next to me and awaiting in what manner I would continue.

I noticed that Estel was still fully clothed, even if his shirt was hanging wide open, revealing an expanse of still pale flesh. The realization that the body beneath those garments was mine to enjoy made me lick my lips in anticipation. To love Estel could never turn into a routine, maybe exactly because he was human. To my eyes he changed and matured so quickly – the youthful and carefree boy I had met thirty years ago in Rivendell had changed into a responsible and independent man. There was always something new to explore where Estel was concerned and I longed to see what he had in store for me this time.

I tugged at his shirt, indicating he should take it off. Estel followed my silent order immediately and I was quick to help him when the cloth caught on his still stiff shoulder. After a short struggle, the garment ended up discarded on the floor.

I looked at the wide expanse of his chest and could not decide where to kiss him first. His taste still lingered on my lips, but our earlier kisses had only left me craving for more. I closed the few inches between our bodies and gently laved his earlobe with my tongue before sucking the flesh into my mouth and caressing it lovingly. Estel turned his head slightly to give me better access, but as he had promised he made no move to touch me in return.

I grew bolder, kissing the soft skin right under his ear, inhaling deeply of his scent. I let my teeth graze against his pulse point, biting down and gentling the skin at once by licking the area thoroughly. I could tell Estel enjoyed the contact for his breaths started to come in short pants. His body unconsciously swayed nearer to mine, but again there was no attempt to return my caresses.

I looked up from my task to commit this moment to memory: He was sitting in front of me with his eyes closed in bliss. His hands curled in the bedsheets and his face was flushed. I smiled when I noticed that the leggins he wore did nothing to hide his prominent arousal. It was alluring to see him so at my mercy. To witness his instant reaction to my touch was the most powerful aphrodisiac imaginable.

My gaze went to the scars on his body, old and new alike, and I felt the sudden urge to kiss them all away. Carefully, I let my fingers trail over the ragged new scar on his shoulder. I barely touched his skin for fear of hurting him, but I needed him to understand that I would accept this scar on him as I had all the others. I kissed his shoulder lightly and felt him shiver under my touch while my hands ran down his arms. Estel turned his palms upwards to invite my touch and I could not resist entwining my hand in his. He squeezed lightly and a dreamy smile appeared on his face.

I kissed my way across his chest, feeling it heave under my lips from the strain of his laboured breathing. I covered the round scar just above his heart with my mouth and let the tip of my tongue tickle the sensitive skin before I turned my head until my cheek was resting against his broad chest. I heard the mad gallop of his heartbeat as much as I felt it and savoured the tickling sensation caused by the hair on Estel’s chest.

I twirled my tongue around his nipple, wetting the aureola thoroughly but never actually coming in contact with the hardening bud. Estel groaned with frustrated need and his hand gripped mine tighter. I repeated my teasing on his right side before eventually taking pity on him. The moment my lips closed around the nipple straining for attention there was a contented sigh from above, a sound that went straight to my groin. Estel liked the way in which I worshipped his body. I in turn, was enjoying lavishing attention on him.

I let go of his nipple, wet and worried into hardness, and gave Estel’s upper body a light push. “Lie back,” I ordered in s voice full of anticipation.

Estel, upon hearing the command, tried to open his heavy-lidded eyes fully. In the end he gave up, gifting me with an inviting smile instead. “Gladly,” he rasped and let himself fall back.

We were still both wearing too many clothes for my taste. I struggled out of my leggins and felt Estel’s gaze burn my skin as soon as I was naked. His smoldering eyes, promising me sensual delight, caused my cock to grow even harder. I longed to be touched by him and his twitching fingers told me he had a hard time holding back as well.

“Soon, we will be joined. Soon, I will feel you inside me. You will fill me, make me complete. We will be as one.” Estel’s eyes had grown almost black upon hearing my words and he looked at me wide-eyed as if this was all an illusion that could shatter because he blinked.

I tugged at Estel’s waistband and he lifted his hips at once, helping me to strip him naked. Seeing him so on display, waiting patiently for me to use his body in whatever way I desired, reminded me of that day by the lakeside. Now though, he would not only be a passive participant. Now he would have the strength to make love to me.

He was achingly hard and with a twinge I remembered how his cock had hurt me the last time I had been taken. I embraced that fear and meant to expunge it by thinking of all the times Estel’s touch had brought me pleasure. I recalled how he would move within me and how his hardness would rub repeatedly against my sweet spot until stars exploded behind my closed eyelids and coherent speech eluded me. I recalled the profound feeling of belonging that used to grip me as soon as Estel’s cock pushed past my entrance. I longed to feel those things again and this longing far outweighed my trepidation.

These were the memories I needed now! I leant down, tasting his arousal gingerly. His surprise caused Estel to buck into me, but he reigned himself in soon and tried to stay as still as possible. I grew more confident when I realized that it was once again me setting the pace. My mouth closed fully around Estel’s cock and I sucked gently on the silken hardness. His moans guided me and when my tongue started to tease the slit, he gave a hiss of pleasure. I looked up at this and my own pulse quickened upon seeing him in the throes of passion. His head was thrown back, exposing his throat. His hands kneaded the sheets and his whole body seemed to be aglow. _He seems so alive_ , I thought, while I tasted the first drops of his essence as they exploded on my tongue into a thousand different flavours.

I swallowed, guiding his cock deeper down my throat and Estel gave a desperate moan before he threw his head back. His upper body arched off the bed and even in my lustful haze I could see that his skin glistened with sweat. He was far gone and only a few more swirls of my tongue would bring him to completion.

“Stop, stop,” Estel panted in a voice that sounded almost pained. “I want to be joined with you,” he forced out.

“I want that as well,” I agreed. I took a last look at his cock, glistening with saliva, before I straddled him. I ground my hips lightly against his groin to keep him afire and Estel moved into the touch, enjoying the feel of our cocks touching almost accidentally.

I looked around us and spotted some oil on the bedside table. It seemed, the lady truly thought of everything. I made a grab for it, putting the small vial in Estel’s hand. “Prepare me, love. Touch me.”

It was the permission Estel had waited for. He sat up a little to have a better angle and then opened the stopper to let a generous amount of the fragranced oil drip onto his fingers. Suddenly we were cocooned in the comforting perfume of jasmine and we both inhaled deeply. Estel let his hands rest on my hips and I was aflame the moment I felt his calloused finger brush against my oversensitized skin. As enjoyable as it had been to have Estel at my mercy, it did not compare to the feeling of him touching me in return.

He stroked my hips lightly before grazing his nails against my thighs. When he finally let his fingers dip between my buttocks, I pushed desperately against his hand, wishing him inside me at once. He circled my entrance for a while, teasing it with his oily fingers. And when he finally breached me, his eyes held onto mine steadfastly, looking for signs of pain or passion. He found none of the former and all of the latter, because the promise of his probing finger sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

The slight burn was welcome and I instantly urged him to go deeper. I moved into his hand and he took the cue, stroking my inner walls, stretching me. His preparation seemed endless, for his strokes kept me constantly on the edge without letting me take the final tumble. When I could not take anymore of his merciless teasing, I gripped his cock firmly and stroked it once to remind him what it was I wanted.

I cupped my hand in invitation and let him trickle some of the oil onto it. Again I stroked his cock languidly, making it slippery between my fingers. Estel’s breaths grew heavy once again when I readjusted my position above him and slowly sank down on his cock.

My descent upon his shaft was slow and I could see what control it cost Estel not to simple drive upwards and fill me completely with one long thrust. However, he had made a promise and so it would be me to set the pace.

To have him fill me once more, not in pain but in pleasure was a feeling so profound that it transcended mere lust. I felt the bond flare between us once I had taken all of him in me. I heard Estel whisper, “home”, and then the effort to keep still became too much and we let our bodies take over. We moved in that old rhythm that never lost its appeal when it was Estel who shared this dance with me.

His hands were on my hips, holding on to me as if I would take flight any moment. And truly it felt as if I could touch the sky. Estel’s cock rubbed against my sweet spot with every stroke and cries fell from my lips in a never-ending song. “Touch me,” I urged and as soon as the words had left my mouth I felt Estel’s capable hands on my own arousal, caressing it and drawing even more sounds of pleasure from my mouth.

We had not kissed yet, but I did not want to give in to my release without feeling his lips cover mine. I leant down and captured his mouth, feeling a thrill go through me as my peak approached, rolling over me like a powerful wave.

I gasped into Estel’s mouth when my orgasm crashed above me and I felt Estel empty himself in me, reclaiming what was his, marking me as his beloved. I could not breathe for the waves of passion kept rushing through me, could not move lest I loose this feeling in me, around me, everywhere at once. I felt Estel’s mouth slacken against mine when his orgasm had robbed him of his last strength. He sucked in big gulps of air while he thrust into me once last time, driving his seed deep into me, before collapsing bonelessly and utterly still despite his harsh breathing.

I had come to lie on him, this once not minding his shoulder for no rational thought crossed my mind. I enjoyed the mad beat of his heart reverberating through his body, the slick sweat binding us together and the air around us crackling with sated lust. I still felt Estel in me and moved momentarily in pursuit of a little more friction. Estel gave a satisfied hum at this and his arms came around me, encircling us both in a safe cocoon. Nothing was spoken, for no words could capture the magic of this moment fully, but we could both feel how our love had grown tenfold in the span of one night; a thing we had both thought impossible.

We fell asleep entangled in each other’s limbs and thoughts, uncaring whether the world outside moved or stood still. And truly, if an army of orcs had attacked Lothlórien in that night, none of us would have noticed.

~*~

I was dreaming. Unlike humans, elves always dream consciously. We are never tricked by a dreamscape and rarely plagued by a nightmare. For us, sleep is a respite and more often than not we can choose where to wander in our dreams.

Therefore, I instantly knew I was walking the land of dreams. There was no fear, only a slight apprehension because the setting was unknown to me. I looked around me, curious why my mind would take me to this unfamiliar place.

A thick mist enshrouded me, hiding my surroundings from me. There was nothing but that unpenetrable fog and I could venture no guess whether I was alone. My sense of direction had abandoned me for there was neither a sun nor a landmark that could give me any information as to where I was. The mist caused me to feel disoriented as if my body had been suspended in air.

A sense of being lost just started to take hold of me, when I felt the presence of another living being not very far off. I concentrated all my thoughts on that presence and at once felt a kindred soul. The being was familiar. Loved. No other but Estel could cause such instant recognition in my heart and I desperately wished to be united with him.

“Estel!” I called out for him repeatedly. My voice sounded hollow and muffled to my own ears and I could only hope that it carried through this nothingness. I kept calling him, but I never received an answer. Even worse... I felt Estel’s presence recede. He was moving away from me. There was a tug at the bond between us, prompting me to follow. I took a tentative step further into the fog and followed where I perceive Estel to be going.

After a while I quickened my steps in the hope of catching up with Estel, but somehow he always managed to stay in front of me. I called him once again, but the tug at our bond never left, indicating he wished me to follow his lead.

There was solid stone under my feet, no soft forest ground. When I lifted my hands, trying to sense my surroundings, my fingertips touched stone as well. The material was rough but even. Someone had cut the stone into blocks, using it to build housing. This was man-made, I decided, and the longer I walked and let my fingertips trail against the stone the more I became convinced that I was walking along a street lined with houses.

I was still unable to see anything. I never crashed into one of the structures that lined my path, but I surmised that was largely due to the fact that I was following where I perceived Estel to be going.

I walked on for endless minutes, noticing that the trail led steadily upwards. Sometimes the road took a bend and after one such turns to the left I meant to see the mist lifting. It seemed some light penetrated this vapor for I could perceive the weak light of the sun somewhere above me. And when I concentrated really hard, I could see houses and roads where there had only been fog a moment before.

When the mist lifted fully, I found myself in a small garden. There were bushes and trees at its edges, almost hiding the fact that the space was not large, because other buildings of varying height encased the green space that had been created here. The garden was well-maintained and in full bloom. I recognized many of the flowers that raised their leaves to the sun, the colours of their blossoms sparkling in a luscious rainbow. A wooden bench was standing to the side, near a large window that would undoubtedly lead into a house of some sort. This place was unknown to me, but I felt it calling for me as if the flowers and plants longed to be attended by my hand.

It was not the beauty of my surroundings that captured my interest, though. It was the large wolf lying curled up on the lawn, licking one of his paws with abandon. I had seen this wolf before, but in this dream I felt none of the fear that had gripped me during our previous encounter. I walked up to the animal and let myself fall into the soft grass beside the majestic body.

The animal looked up at me with intelligent eyes and something sparked between us. I looked down and saw blood on his paw, which prompted the wolf to lick the paw again.

“You are wounded,” I said and my hand reached out carefully, gently taking the paw and feeling for a splinter or stone.

The wolf whimpered half-heartedly, but made no further protest when I probed the limb in question. Instead, his big head dropped to the ground and he closed his eyes. Only a repeated flick of his ears indicated that the wolf was not asleep. I fingered the paw, finding a piece of wood that had broken through the sole and drew it out carefully. The wolf’s flews drew up for a moment, but he soon fell silent again.

I was mesmerized by the soft fur, which felt thick and warm between my questing fingers. It was magical to be allowed so near to an animal such as this and I vowed to make the most of it. The wolf gave a heartfelt sigh, something that seemed decidedly human to me, when I digged my fingers into its pelt and massaged the cords of muscle beneath. I was just fondling the animal’s ears, which caused the wolf to wag his tail in approval, when a high-pitched scream shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

The scream sounded again and then turned into a wail of loud staccato sobs. It was a babe’s cry, sounding terribly idignated. The wolf lifted his head and scented the air around us. He looked to the open window and then turned his head in my direction. It was evident that he was drawn to the crying babe, but at the same he time refused to be parted from me. And with a clarity one usually finds in dreams, I knew I would not willingly part from the animal.

“I will walk with you,” I said and digged my fingers deeper into that rich fur before releasing the animal. The wolf stood in one elegant move, and I followed his example. Together we made for the open window, to see what the crying was all about.

Walking into the unfamiliar house, I felt the wolf’s steady presence next to me, rubbing his shoulder against me left knee.

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the song “Poor Mouth” by 16 Horsepower.





	17. Every Type of Love

# 17\. Every Type of Love

I did not wake the usual way; coming to awareness from one moment to the next. Instead, my mind was reluctant to retreat from the dream I had just experienced, trying to linger as long as possible in that unkown place.

Sounds were the first thing to penetrate the world of my dream. Birds were praising the approach of a new day. The wind was tugging gently at our talan, so high up in the tree. Branches creaked and some rubbed against the roof, producing an ominous sound. Then my eyes noticed the glare of an early morning sun, its light as strong and hopeful as it is only in the first few hours of dawn. And lastly, touch returned to me. The bed was soft beneath me while my body felt heavy and sated, lying motionlessly on the mattress. It was only then that a discord entered my mind: Something heavy was lying on my chest and that something did not feel like Estel at all.

Frozen with fear I let my gaze trail down and noticed at once the large wolf lying on me. His huge head was so close to mine that we were nearly nose to nose. My body grew stiff in anticipation of an attack, knowing that the wolf would have severed my jugular with its huge teeth before I could make a grab for a weapon.

I would have recognized the animal anywhere. It was the wolf that had taken Estel from me, forcing his evil intent on Estel’s mind and body. However the beast had managed to survive, it was here again. We had lost after all.

The wolf did not attempt to attack me and the motionless silence between us caused me to notice that the Elessar was still around the wolf’s neck. The green stone was alight from within as if it was collecting the morning sun. I looked into the wolf’s eyes and remembered their feral gleam. I had seen nothing but malice in them, but the longer I looked now the more I realized that something had changed. They were not yellow anymore, not aglow with fiery danger. They were blue and they were light and clear. The wolf gazed at me with intelligent eyes, looking steadily at my face. The wolf’s eyes were full of compassion, mourning and love. And I finally realized that it was Estel looking at me through those eyes. Not some beast, not some wolf. It was Estel, the man I loved.

I blinked because unbidden tears made my vision water. Sometime during our silent perusal I had buried my hand in the wolf’s fur, feeling the texture the way I had done in my dream. “I am sorry,” I cried. “I tried, I tried so hard.”

The wolf made no comment, of course. Instead, he let his head rest on my chest and blew out hot breath across my throat. To my ears it sounded very human, like a sigh.

A hawk cried shrilly and the sudden sound disturbed the wolf. He sprang gracefully to his feet and down from the bed. Before I had time to react the animal had fled from the room. I was alone once again and wished desperately that I had not yet woken and this was all still part of my dream. Alas, in the end I had to accept that I was very much awake. And Estel was very much a wolf once again.

I dressed hurriedly and left the talan in search of Estel. Soon enough, that proved to be a futile effort for even as a wolf he seemed able to hide himself sufficiently when he did not wish to be found. Even in his youth, Estel had had a knack for tracking and losing his pursuers in the woods. It had never been easy to find him when he wished to be alone. However, after he had finished his first year with the rangers, it had become virtually impossible.

And now, standing at the base of the tree and looking around me without finding _any_ trace of the wolf that must have come this way I started to despair. Where should I start looking for him? It was in that moment, when I stood motionless pondering my next move, that a small flame started to lick at my heart. The feeling startled me at first, but when I gave it further thought I came to realize that it was the bond making itself known. It was nothing more than a presence at first, feeling wild and alien, but the more I concentrated on my wish to find Estel, the clearer it became.

I cannot say whether it was the bond that _told_ me where to find Estel. This new-formed connection between us was far from being so transparent and easy to understand. Rather, I could not shake the sudden thought that Estel would go back to the talan we had occupied when we had first come here. Naturally, this idea could have come from my own mind, but it is just as likely that it was the bond, gaining strength the more I thought on Estel’s whereabouts, that gave me a clue where to look.

So I turned my steps south again, giving the few elves I passed polite nods while I hurried my steps to indicate that I had an urgent matter to take care of. When I finally rushed into the talan, I saw instantly that all our belongings were still there. The living room was empty, though. Neither Estel nor the wolf – and I did not even know whom of the two I expected to find – were there. I walked on into the bedroom and the relief I felt caused me to remain motionless in the doorway without ever entering the chamber.

Estel was on the bed, naked and asleep. Just as he had done in his youth, his limbs were thrown in every direction as if he had fallen unto the mattress in an exhausted heap. I saw the Elessar glow reassuringly around his neck. I saw the fresh scar tissue that was forming all over his shoulder. I saw him take deep and even breaths. A frown appeared on his face when he unconsciously turned onto his side.

Estel was the wolf, and the wolf was Estel. The curse had been broken, but not in the way we had anticipated. It seemed the wolf would stay with Estel, but now it was Estel’s mind that mastered the beast. It had been different this morning – no threat had come from the wolf.

 _So this is how it will be,_ I thought and a sharp pain seized my heart. Estel had been saved, but the Valar had seen fit to play a cruel joke on us.

I had no time to pursue my darkening thought, because I perceived someone entering the platform of the talan. With a quick move I closed the door leading to the bedroom, shielding Estel’s vulnerable form from prying eyes. Only a moment later, Haldir entered after knocking sharply.

“Prince Legolas.” He gave a nod in greeting, but then a look of confusion appeared on his features. He took a step in my direction. “Are you well?”

I looked down at myself in surprise and noticed that my appearance was quite dissheveled. I had dressed in a hurry, not bothering to close all the laces on my shirt and not even thinking about straightening my hair. It probably looked as if a crow had made its residence up there. My father would have a few choice words to say about being a prince and looking the part.

“I am well. Very well, in fact.” I gave him an ambiguous smile and lowered my lashes in a show of modesty, making it quite clear how I had spent the night. “What brings you here this morning?”

It was a poor attempt to distract him from my unkempt person, but Haldir seemed grateful to take the bait. “One of our patrols spotted a large wolf this morning, walking along the edge of the city.” My heart thudded wildly upon hearing this. “It did not seem harmful, but I informed the lady nonetheless. She assured me there was no need to take measures, but Lady Arwen insisted I check on you to see whether you are both well.” Haldir rolled his eyes in a droll fashion, indicating that he found Arwen to be overreacting. “The talan on Cerin Amroth was empty, so I came here.”

Of course Haldir might think Arwen’s reaction strange, but she was privy to knowledge he was not and I admired Arwen’s quick mind. She had managed to ask for our well-being without giving the messenger any clue what was truly going on. “Estel and I came back here this morning. We are both well, Arwen need not worry.”

“That was what I told her, but she would not believe me. I tell you, that elleth is a mystery to me.” Haldir seemed a bit flustered, blushing suddenly when his brain caught up with his tongue and he noticed what he had said.

How close were those two? It was Haldir Arwen had summoned when Estel needed help. It was Haldir she had sent now. Coincidence? It seemed I needed to have an eye on them.

Haldir cleared his throat. “So. You two are bonded now?” His attempt to change the subject was not very subtle, but I let it pass.

“We are.” I smiled. Haldir nodded.

“The lady told us some mysterious story about a powerful malady that could only be counteracted if you pledged your soul to his. Lady Galadriel is far-seeing, but even for her that scheme seemed...” he searched for the right word and then decided on “... adventurous. Did it work?”

How should I answer that question in the light of recent events? I remembered the wolf from this morning, the very thing we had tried to drive out. I remembered how the wolf’s eyes had shone with human intelligence, with Estel’s love. Suddenly, Galadriel’s parting words made sense to me. We had saved his soul, not his body. It would have to be enough.

“It worked,” I decided, and the moment I said it I realized that it was the truth as I perceived it. “He is resting.” I inclined my head to the bedroom to indicate Estel’s whereabouts.

“I will leave you then.” Haldir had no problem taking a cue when he was given one, but there was one more thing I needed to say to him ere we parted.

“Thank you, Haldir. I know you cared nothing for a human when we came here, but you helped us anyway. I will not forget that.”

Haldir chuckled ruefully. “Arwen was most displeased with me when she learned of my conduct upon meeting you. I am glad you were so fast on your feet and my arrow missed its mark. She would have had my head, had I actually shot her brother!”

“She can be quite passionate,” I agreed.

“You have no idea!” Haldir’s reply was heartfelt, but before I could enquire further, he had turned around to leave.

When Haldir had left I approached the closed bedroom door once again. Inside was the man I loved, the man I was bound to. Nothing could tear us apart now, for a bond such as this was not meant to be broken. Neither time nor death could shatter it. Neither could the curse still upon his flesh. We would be together. Estel would master this and I would be there to see it.

I took a deep breath and my hand on the door pushed lightly. This was the life I would lead from now on and I was more than ready to step into it.

Estel slept on, oblivious to my presence, and I was loath to wake him since I knew he had a lot of sleep to catch up on. So I sat on the bed with him, my hip brushing against his chest when he moved in sleep, and decided to wait patiently until he woke on his own. In a way, I was thankful for the short respite. I needed the time to come to term with things – and to consider what to tell him once he woke. I knew he would be devastated to learn that Galadriel’s plan had worked only partially and I wanted to have the right words ready to console him.

Estel woke slowly, but even before he opened his eyes, his arm came around my waist to draw me nearer to his body. “You smell like you were properly ravished last night.” He moved his head blindly to kiss whatever part of me he could reach from his lying position. His mouth ended up on my right thigh, and even through the fabric of my leggins I felt his kiss burn my skin.

He turned onto his back, his favoured position for properly waking up, and opened his eyes. A straight line appeared on his forehead when he noticed he was not where he had fallen asleep last night. Estel looked to me for an explanation, but his attention was diverted when he saw my appearance.

“Your hair is a mess! You look just like you did in the morning, when you woke up. Adorable.” Actually, he spoke only the first two syllables of that last word, because that was when memory returned to him. I could see in his eyes when the epiphany hit. I remembered from the first time that he would not instantly know what had happened, but I was under the impression that the memory came easier to him now. Hopefully it would be also easier for him to accept his fate.

“It did not work.” That was no question, he seemed to be quite certain about the outcome.

“It did work.”

“But I...” he searched his mind for the memory. “You were touching me and that was pleasurable. We were close. Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head. “What do you remember?”

“It is not clear and it feels so different. I was lying next to you, watching you sleep. You were so beautiful and I had missed sleeping in one bed with you, waking up together. When you opened your eyes, you looked at me horrified, but then you turned sad. I think you said something, but I did not understand it.”

This was extraordinary. “When I woke, a wolf was lying on my chest and I was scared to death. But the wolf made no move to attack me and when I looked into his eyes I saw you. I saw you look at me. Do you understand, Estel? The curse is broken, I have seen it with my own eyes. The wolf may still be there, but it is your mind that masters it.”

“This is repulsive,” Estel exclaimed. “How can you even look at me?”

“Do not say such things. You are you, do you not understand? In whatever form, it is always you. There is no darkness and no danger. You will hurt neither me nor anyone else. All is well.”

“How can you say that? There is this beast in me, I am a werewolf!”

“Then I love a werewolf.” The comment was made too flippantly, I noticed right away, but I could not take the words back now.

“Maybe you confuse love with pity, Legolas.”

“I do not. I did not bind myself to you because I pity you. I did not choose a human lover all those years ago because I pitied your mortality. I did not drag you to Lothlórien because I pitied your fate. I did it because I felt compassion and love. Is that not the best reason?”

“What kind of love can you feel for me now?”

I could not help it, I found his question terribly naive. I smiled wistfully. “All kinds of love, of course. We have known each other for thirty years and it amazes me how much my love for you has grown and changed over the years. And yet it has always stayed the same – steady, comforting. It was so intense during the first few months that it left me breathless before it turned into the constant burning that sustains me now. It has taught me about pride and faith and trust and patience. It has led me to this place and time, together with you.”

“I would let you go if you asked it of me,” Aragorn said with difficulty. “You should not bind yourself to one such as I.”

“It is too late for that anyway, even if I was not convinced I made the right choice.” I thought feverishly how I could make him understand. “Do you remember the night when we first kissed? We were sitting amongst your father’s roses, I remember they were in full bloom. You were fidgeting with nerves, which I found quite charming. Your cheeks were flushed from our dance and the wine. Your eyes seemed very bright in the dusk, trusting me fully with the next step. I think we both knew what we wanted to happen next, but in the moment before I kissed you, I doubted myself. I asked myself why to choose you, when I knew our path would be difficult. You were so very young, so different from me. But at the same time, your innocence, your youth, your exuberance drew me to you like a moth to a flame. I could not resist your need to simply _live_. I chose you because of your ability to burn for something, to feel passionate about a subject near to your heart. I chose you because of your graceful moves when you sparred with Glorfindel and because of the light in your eyes whenever you looked at me. I accepted then and there, in that precious moment before our first kiss, that I would not run from this chance, that I would embrace these feelings. I loved you then, Estel, and I love you now. I will not run away from this, from us, ever. I pledged to stay by your side always. I would follow you anywhere, into the pits of Mordor if need be. How can you expect me not to follow you in this also?”

Estel fell silent, needing time to process what I had told him. In a quiet voice, he answered, “because this is not what we meant when we said we would stand by each other. You meant coming to Gondor with me if I ever took up the crown.”

“Estel, such promises are made exactly because we do not know where life will lead us. I did not make that promise because it would be such a hardship to come to Gondor with you. I made that promise for a situation like this, for a situation neither of us could have forseen. I made that promise, because I knew that if such a day ever came, you would need me.”

He looked at me, truly looked at me, and I could see naked longing in his eyes. “I need you, there will never be a day when I will not need you like air, like water, like sustenance. More, even.”

“Then have me.” I embraced him and felt goosebumps on his spine where my hand touched.

“Can it really be so easy?” Estel asked, obviously needing to give me one last chance out.

“It is. Now, shush. And kiss me to seal our pact.”

 **Notes** :

  * The chapter title comes from the song “Love for Sale” by Cole Porter.




**Translation:**  
elleth – elven maiden


	18. The Life I've Left Behind

# 18\. Epilogue – The Life I’ve Left Behind

We lingered long in the Golden Wood. Estel’s body needed the time to heal, for even if the wound had closed finally, his shoulder was far from mended. He slept for most of the first week, as if his body had realized it was finally time for a respite. He woke when Arwen visited with trays laden with food and healing supplies and fell asleep instantly when the last piece of fruit had been eaten. His hunger had returned with a vengence and I was heartened to see that his haggard appearance started to fill out and his hollow eyes looked more alive with each passing day.

Galadriel herself took out the stitches from Estel’s shoulder and he bore the procedure with a stoic calm. He had thanked her for saving his soul, but the emotion had never reached his eyes. Despite our talk, Estel struggled with his fate and more often than not his nightmares woke me during the dark watches of the night and I spent the remainder of darkness to calm his frayed nerves. Galadriel however, was unaffected by his cool manner, assuring me that Estel would find his strength and make peace with what had happened.

Arwen was constantly at Estel’s side when he was still bound to his bed. She provided a salve to keep the skin on his shoulder supple and soothe the scar tissue. I was the one to administer it twice a day and from this day on I came to associate the smell of calendula and aloe with Estel’s presence. Still, the healing wound caused Estel much distress. The skin on his shoulder was uncomfortably taut and on bad nights he would not sleep a wink, because he could not find a position in which the wound would not bother him. Instead, he would walk the length and width of the bedroom chamber and hum quietly in an attempt to distract himself from the pain.

The scars on his body were proof enough that he was used to such hardships and normally, he would have strained to get out of his sickbed. The rather exceptional situation in which he found himself now caused him to be listless, bearing everything that was done to his body with an air of indifference. It was only when he was deemed strong enough and I forced him to take walks with me, that the beauty of our surroundings managed to spark his interest. We saw much of Lothlórien in this fashion, exploring the woods in ever widening circles depending on Estel’s returning strength. They loosened his tongue for it seemed to give him a sense of security when we were both watching our path and he did not have to look at me when he vented his anger and despair.

His body healed, but his mind was another matter. He admitted to feeling used and betrayed, unsuccessfully trying to find some sort of sense in this whole misadventure. His body had become a stranger to him, an enemy even, because he never knew how he might react to a certain situation, a certain stimulus. He did not understand the wolf, could not guess his intent and therefore was under the impression of sharing his body with a creature that was absolutely alien to him. He sought my closeness continously, never leaving me out of his sight, but whenever I wished to take our caresses further than a simple kiss and touch, he would recoil and draw in on himself, fearing our lovemaking would trigger the _beast,_ as he had come to call the wolf.

The wolf made his presence known. From time to time, he demanded attention. Estel would prowl restlessly and snap at me, he would grow irritated and short-tempered until he gave the wolf his wish. I never saw him change, though. Never saw the wolf again, actually, because Estel always disappeared into the thick woods and only returned hours later, dirty and tired and asking forgiveness for his ill temper before he fell into a deep sleep.

I petitioned the lady again, asking her for a way to undo the curse once and for all. However, she knew of no potion to heal a body of such an ailment. I suggested we search elsewhere, in Rivendell’s large library for instance, but she gave me no great hope that we would find an answer there.

Autumn was approaching swiftly and Galadriel took me aside after visiting with us in what we had come to refer to as _our_ talan.

“He has healed as much as he could in this place. If you wish to make for Rivendell, you should leave soon, before the pass over the Misty Mountains is impassable. He needs things that are familiar to him. I feel that going home will help him in coming to terms with things.”

I remembered his words when he had discovered our journey south. He had desperately wanted to go home, and maybe it was time to finally do just that. Upon proposing the idea to Estel, I saw a flicker of joy in his eyes, before it was covered by feigned indifference. He was afraid of looking into his family’s eyes, not knowing of how to break the terrible news to them. What he did not know was that Galadriel had sent word ahead long ago. Rivendell knew something had happened, they just did not know the whole magnitude of it.

It was early September when we took our leave. Our horses had roamed free during our stay here and while Eadie looked eager to be on the road again, Mouse had gained even more pounds and was desperately munching on a patch of succulent grass as if knowing we would leave these pastures soon. He looked up shortly when he noticed our approach, but a snort was all the greeting he was ready to give. It had given Estel some of his self-confidence back when he had first noticed that the horses no longer shied away from him. They had sniffed him with interest, but had accepted him at once. He had not even needed the carrot he had taken along as bribe.

“Some things never change,” Estel said quietly when he observed Mouse’s indifferent manner and I heard something like envy in his voice.

“Others do,” I ventured, sensing his melancholy mood. “When we came here, we were lovers. Now we are bound to one another.” I could always convince him with that argument. As much as he despised what had become of him, he clung to the bond desperately. It was the one good thing that come of this mess.

Estel took my hand when we approached the elves who had gathered to see us off. Galadriel and Celeborn were there, as were Tandollen and Haldir. The latter was standing right next Arwen and his head was bowed in her direction as if giving her silent support. I squeezed Estel’s hand and gave a minute nod in their direction. Estel followed my gaze and I saw his eyebrow rise at the display. I had filled him in on my suspicions long ago, but whatever we tried, we were never able to validate what we suspected.

We approached the lord and lady first. Estel bowed his head in a show of respect. “I thank you for your hospitality. And for...” He faltered and swallowed. “For my life.” Normally, he was more eloquent than that, and I frowned.

Galadriel’s lean fingers lifted Estel’s chin and he was forced to look into her wise eyes. “One day you will be able to thank me and mean it, child.” Her voice was gentle and understanding. “Until then, I will pray to the One that he will let the sun back into your heart. You are blessed with one who loves you. Do not throw that away.” She let her forefinger touch the glowing Elessar on Estel’s skin and I saw a shiver go through him at the contact.

Celeborn’s voice interrupted the exchange. “The road to the mountains is free. We have had no reports of orcs or other evil beings roaming these parts. Further west, I cannot say. I wish you a safe journey.” Celeborn, ever the voice of reason. It was strange to see one so rooted in reality see paired with one so otherworldy. Each was exactly what the other was not, and maybe that was the secret of their love.

Arwen was the last we said our goodbyes to. “I will come to Rivendell next spring, I promise,” she said mostly to Estel, because she knew he would await her arrival. “Try not to get in trouble until then, I wish to see you healthy and in good spirits. And I want this to be gone.” Her fingers soothed an imaginative vertical line upon his forehead. At the moment it was absent, but during the last weeks we had both seen it appear more and more when Estel deemed himself alone. “There is no gain in thinking about the past. You must find joy in the present and in that, have hope for the future.”

She was just about to kiss his cheek when Estel decided a proper goodbye needed an embrace. He caught her unawares, but in the end they clung to one another and Arwen let her hand run up and down his back in a soothing gesture.

She caught my gaze and smiled. “Love him,” she mouthed and I nodded in answer.

“I will.” My lips formed the words without speaking them, but Arwen understood the silent vow. She disentangled herself from Estel’s arms and gave him a final kiss.

Even when we had mounted our horses and turned them north, Estel kept throwing glances back to where Arwen was standing. Soon, though, the path took a turn to the left and the Lórien elves were out of view. We settled comfortably on the horses and looked ahead to where our journey would take us.

“I am a bit afraid of going home,” Estel said unexpectedly and I looked at him in disbelief.

“Why is that? You want to go home.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But so much time has passed. Things...” He said the word with a look of displeasure on his face. “Things have happened. And Rivendell is still the same.”

“Rivendell has waited for you, as have its inhabitants. It will still be home, you can trust in that.”

“Mhm.” Estel pondered my reassurance. “Do you know that I love you? You always say the right things at the right time.”

“And I love you.” I thought of Arwen’s words to Estel and found them to ring true. “I love you, Aragorn. Past, present and future.”

We had talked much about how Estel’s future had been so drastically altered – and not for the first time. I had told him that I admired his ability to adjust, to come out the victor whatever the battle had been. At the moment, he could not see himself as the victor of anything, but I knew this would not break him. Not anymore.

He looked at me steadily, his eyes so grey and perceptive. But beneath was the glacier-blue of his wolf, looking at me with the same intelligence and love as his master.

“Past, present and future,” Estel agreed, his voice heavy with emotion while the sky was reflected in his eyes. When his gaze pierced me, a blue flame licking sensually at my heart, I knew a promise had been made.

_\- The End_

_(June 2008)_

**Notes:**

  * The chapter title comes from the song “Sweet Surrender” by Sarah McLachlan.

  * The image of Aragorn walking his room because his wound pains him and he cannot sleep is lifted from Arturo Perez-Reverte's fabulous novel “El capitán Alatriste”. I liked it so much, I just _had_ to use it somewhere.





End file.
